


Throne of Bones

by cazzy



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Drama, F/M, Reylo - Freeform, Romance, Snark, Sorry Not Sorry, Supernatural Creatures, Vampire hunters AU, Vampires, apparently being a vampire hunter means you curse excessively, i really have no excuse for this, this genre is my guilty pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6712324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazzy/pseuds/cazzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunting vampires isn't such a bad gig, except for the whole risking-your-life-every-time-the-sun-goes-down thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a love/hate relationship with trying to write drabbles. I was prompted by the lovely [machinewithoutfeelings](http://archiveofourown.org/users/machinewithoutfeelings/pseuds/machinewithoutfeelings) to write a quick drabble, and this spiraled out of control. It's absolutely sinful and I have no remorse whatsoever about stepping into the dumb vampire/supernatural genre because I secretly crave it.
> 
> I'm probably posting this preemptively since the wordcount is pretty low, but I'm having a lot of fun with it and wanted to share before it turned into an excessively long oneshot. I expect this fic to be about four/five parts, though it has yet to be seen if I'll expand on it a bit more. 
> 
> Title from Nicole Dollanganger's _Please Eat._

Luke grimaces at her as she walks in the door, and it immediately puts Rey in a foul mood.

“I don't want to talk about it,” she says brusquely as she sits down at the bar alongside him. It's dim inside, and her eyes take a moment to adjust from the outside brightness of the sun rising. She squints in the general direction of the bartender and waves him over to request a drink.

Maybe she doesn't _really_ have the authority to speak to her superior in such a way, but Luke's always had a soft spot for her, and she's hoping he won't say a thing about the deep bruise that has blossomed across half of her face.

Hunting rarely goes flawlessly, and she's more annoyed at the injury being so blatantly visible than the fact that it happened at all.

He raises an eyebrow as his eyes hone in on her face, but thankfully says nothing other than, “You probably need this more than I do,” as he hands her his glass.

Rey knows Luke's preferences well enough to know it's whiskey, and readily accepts the offering. After a long drink, she fishes into the glass for an ice cube and pops it into her mouth. “I'm having a lovely morning, actually,” she says airily, rolling the ice around on her tongue. “How are you doing?”

“As well as can be expected,” Luke replies as the bartender brings around her drink, and she nods gratefully at him. “This recon has been exhausting and relatively uninformative.”

Rey hums as she takes a sip from her gin and tonic before casually surveying their surroundings. She does a brief sweep of the bar to assuage how much Luke will be able to divulge. It's a Tuesday morning, which means that business is slow, and she recognizes many of the hunters sitting in the booths. There's a were seated at the end of the long bar that she's never seen before, and Rey makes a mental note of her long, dark hair and Asian features.

“Didn't get too much tonight,” she tells him lowly, cautiously, even though they're in allied territory. “But managed a name for you: Brendol Hux.”

“I'm not familiar with the name, but it's a good place to start,” he says. “Thank you, Rey.”

They sit in silence and nurse their drinks. It's rare that they get the opportunity to relax, what with the infestation levels so high, and Rey revels in the brief respite. Her body feels battle-weary now that she's not running on adrenaline any longer, and she's pleased to find that her muscles don't seem too sore. It's likely that the only lasting damage from the evening's jaunts will be the yellow and purple marring her cheekbone, but all things considered, she's willing to consider it a relative victory despite how annoying the bruise will be in the upcoming days.

Behind them, the entrance door to the bar opens and lets in a bright ray of light. It's quickly stifled, but her mentor's eyes fall on whoever has just entered the bar, and Rey turns before groaning audibly.

Ben Solo has always had a chip on his shoulder about her, despite the fact that they're technically allies and sometimes-partners, and she rarely enjoys seeing him. They butt heads constantly, and because she's already had such a _splendid_ evening out, she has a sinking feeling that this interaction won't be pleasant.

“Ben,” Luke greets, and Rey suppresses a glower when the man moves to his feet to embrace the bar's most recent occupant. _She_ didn't get a damned hug.

At least the taller man looks uncomfortable about his uncle's hug. It's petty to revel in the flush high on his cheeks and the uneasy clearing of his throat at the visible display of affection, but Rey hides her smile in the lip of her glass.

“Did you need something, Luke? I got your message.”

Shit, that means he's actually here for a reason. Rey turns an accusing eye toward Luke, who's moving back to his seat and motioning for Ben to sit down next to them.

Ben turns to look at her for the first time since entering the bar, and he promptly scowls, eyebrows drawing together in a perfect picture of discontent. “Are you alright?” he asks, and it's so surprising coming out of his mouth that Rey _almost_ forgets to roll her eyes.

“Try not to sound so shocked, Solo,” she says. “I know you think us humans weak and fragile, but we really can take a beating before we're down for the count.”

He must actually be worried about her, or something, because he ignores the jab. “Is anything broken? I don't have anything on me, but I could prep for a spell if you need it.”

Rey narrows her eyes at him, ignoring how the movement tugs on her bruised flesh. “It's just a bruise,” she says suspiciously. “Why are you suddenly so concerned?”

Ben doesn't flinch, not exactly, but her words definitely trigger some kind of response that has him glaring at her. “Obviously you're fine, then,” he says stiffly, before he loudly sucks in a breath and exhales through his nose.

It's a calming exercise that Rey knows well, and she begrudgingly returns to her gin and tonic as Luke starts talking again.

“If you two have finished, there's business to attend to,” their mentor says a bit wryly.

“Of course,” Rey says, tamping down on her embarrassment at being caught out bickering with Ben. It's well-known among the Resistance that they don't get along, but the subtle reprimand from her mentor humbles her a bit. Luke gives her a _look_ as Ben converses briefly with the bartender and orders a drink, and she averts her gaze to swirl a finger in the condensation that has collected across the countertop of the bar.

“I want the both of you to team up for additional reconnaissance,” he says when Ben returns, drink in hand, and instinctively Rey's hackles rise in reaction to the words.

Immediate protests die on her lips as she sees the look on Ben's face, though. His features have transformed into a stoic mask, and his eyes are hard as he stares into his drink.

“Is this about the mass turnings?” he murmurs, and although she knows he's not quite _so_ powerful as to do such a thing, the room suddenly feels a few significant degrees cooler.

“It is,” Luke confirms.

D'Qar's a fairly huge city, and the Resistance carefully combs through the at-risk populations on a regular basis for signs of supernatural activity. Luke picked up on a trend a few months back of a handful of missing teenagers, and further investigation has revealed an alarmingly low amount of physical bodies given the high rate of disappearance.

Someone's been turning a significant population of people into vampires, he thinks, and the possibilities are too dangerous to go unchecked. They're careful, meticulous, and _smart,_ and Luke's only identified the pattern because he's _Luke Skywalker._

For him to have officially recruited the both of them means he's taking it seriously, and that they need to as well. There isn't time for childish protests any longer, and Rey schools her features into uncharacteristic seriousness. She's also found a piece of the puzzle in unearthing the name of Brendol Hux, and hopefully hunting him down won't be an impossible task.

“Where should we start?” she asks, finishing off her drink and pushing the empty glass across the bar-top.

“Ben, you'll take charge. I want you both to look into Hux, maybe investigate some places where teens have gone missing.”

It's easy work off the bat, although she's a bit irked that Ben's been declared the leader.

“Of course, uncle,” he says. “We'll report back in a few days.” Ben looks at his uncle, then, and they seem to have a wordless conversation for a few moments as she watches them. Luke nods almost imperceptibly, and Ben turns and stares at her intently.

He's casting, she realizes almost too late, and after a few quietly-spoken words the magic settles over her body like a blanket. She'll never admit how comforting the warm tingle is as it presses against her skin, and she covers her reaction with a defiant glare toward him.

Ben smirks at her and says, “You've been fitted with a tracking spell. Just in case you manage to get yourself lost.”

Rey scrunches her nose up in annoyance at his sudden cockiness. _Mages._

Well, _all_ mages aren't bad. Luke's one, after all, and a relatively famous one at that, but he's definitely more enjoyable to be around than Ben is. Actually, the more Rey considers it, most members of Ben's family are downright lovable in comparison to him.

Nevertheless, a job is a job, and Rey sighs heavily as she resigns herself to working with him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, just couldn't resist finishing this one up and posting it!

Stakeouts are the worst part of the job. The word itself always brings with it a vague sense of irony – if _only_ stakeouts actually involved staking the shit out of vamps – but the actual practice of it is often so dull that Rey finds herself dozing off. She doesn't quite have the patience to sit in one spot and watch something for hours, and Luke's chided her countless times about the significance of waiting and observing quietly _before_ taking action.

Falling out of a tree would be inopportune, and Rey shakes her head wildly to snap herself out of the lethargic lull. She needs to keep her mind active while her surroundings are unchanging, and she runs through the information that her and Ben have uncovered over the past week as mental stimulation.

Brendol Hux doesn't seem to exist. None of the databases that the Resistance have access to have picked up anything on the name, and Rey is admittedly impressed with his lack of presence anywhere. She's considered that it's a fake name, given to her in a desperate plea by the fledgling she'd killed a week previous, but the vamp had seemed honest in his frantic attempt at bargaining for his non-life.

Luke's given them all the intel he's collected, which isn't very much. The rate of disappearance is roughly one teen every few weeks, although they are not always newsworthy. The majority have been homeless, although it appears as though a handful of disappearances were some runaways from perfectly well-to-do households. The media doesn’t seem to have picked up on the trend just yet – D'Qar is quite populated, after all, and things fall through the cracks rather easily – and Rey spares the thought that maybe the reason Luke could identify a trending pattern isn't completely on accident.

Whoever this vamp is, he's good. Good enough to exist without any living record, and something seems off, almost sloppy, about how someone picked up on the amount of missing teenagers. If he's the ringleader that's turning an alarming percentage of D'Qar's population into the Undead, it definitely falls under the jurisdiction of the Resistance, and she chews thoughtfully on her lip as she considers the possibilities.

From her vantage point, Rey watches as a twitchy, pale blonde exits one of D'Qar's homeless youth facilities.

Time to get to work, then.

Rey drops down from the tree branch silently and stays a cautious distance away from the vampire. It's dusk, and fortunately she's upwind of the vamp and her scent won't carry, and she trails after the young woman.

To the blonde's credit, she detects Rey fairly quickly. _Not_ to her credit is the way she visibly tenses as soon as she realizes she's being watched. It's far too obvious, and she watches as the vampire leads them into a rather vacant part of town and attempts to lure her into an alleyway for an ambush.

Rey waits her out. It's a strategic move to allow the young vampire's nerves to get the best of her: if Rey approaches the alley, despite the fact that she's most likely a much more seasoned fighter than the blonde, she runs the risk of fighting the vamp when she's feeling confident. But if she exercises patience (and grits her teeth at the thought of _more_ waiting) then it can throw the vampire off-kilter. She's expecting an assault, and if nothing comes, her confidence will be shaken.

When the vamp finally peeks her head out from the darkness of the alley, Rey makes herself known.

“I just want information,” she calls out, and enjoys the low, agitated growl the woman lets out in response. Impatiently, she slides a silver dirk from its sheath against her thigh. “Talking only, I swear.” The lie feels light on her tongue, and Rey considers the glint of the moon on her knife as she moves closer to the mouth of the alley. This close to her, Rey's sure the vampire can scent the blood that endlessly lingers on her frame.

“I'll tell you nothing, hunter _bitch_ ,” the vamp snarls, and lunges at her.

Even the freshest of vampires have supernatural speed and strength, and Rey just barely evades the incoming attack by strafing to the left. The woman darts past her before spinning quickly on her heel, and although she has no weapon like Rey does, her fingers are curved into claws as she prepares for another pass.

She doesn't manage to avoid the charge, this time, and the vampire's momentum as she barrels into Rey forces a _whoosh_ of air out of her chest.

Rey hits the ground hard, and regrets the extra second that it takes to retrieve the breath unwillingly forced from her lungs. By the time she's recovered, the vamp is arching over her, fangs bared, and she moves instinctively, slashing her knife across the vampire's stomach to gain some space.

It misses, of course, but the woman beats a hasty retreat at the sight of the silver weapon, and since she’s not standing over Rey any longer, she quickly pushes herself to her feet.

The vampire snarls wordlessly at her before lunging again, and Rey quickly evaluates the movement as she dodges. She leaves her arm just a little too outstretched as she moves, and predictably, the vampire latches onto the extended limb. Moving with the momentum of the stronger woman, Rey swings her body around and shoves the vampire off-balance and to the ground.

Within moments, she has the vampire pinned beneath her with one hand forcing the woman's shoulder down and her weapon poised just above the blonde's heart.

"No need to be so rude,” she tells the woman, who bucks underneath her in an attempt to break free.

“You will _let me go,_ ” the vampire barks, and Rey quickly shakes off the tingling feeling that always comes with a vampire's attempt at thrall.

It's one of the only thing she has on the mages of the Resistance – being human doesn't grant her many advantages over the supernatural, but she appears to have an innate resistance to mesmerization that her peers often fall prey to without the utilization of counterspells.

“Don't think so,” Rey says, and her grin is feral. “Care to tell me who's been turning vamps in our city lately?”

The woman spits in her face.

Rey winces, but doesn't move her weapon. She's about ready to consider the whole thing a bust when the blonde beneath her writhes angrily and hisses something in a foreign language. She'd thought little of the lightly accented curses as they fought, but now it's clear that the woman is a foreigner. It's unfamiliar to her untrained ear – she's a slayer, not a god damn linguist – but she does manage to parse out the word _Hux_ between the sibilant hisses of the language.

It's better than nothing.

Rey feels no regret as she drives her dirk straight into the heart of the blonde vampire. Her scream fills the air, sharp and agonized, as her flesh peels away from her body, disintegrating as it turns to ash. When she finally falls silent, her body is no more, and Rey looks down at the fine soot littering the ground.

The execution went much smoother than her last attempt at grappling with a half-starved vampire, and Rey grins in the darkness. She doesn't expect low-level grunts to have much insider knowledge, but this was an unexpected treat.

Rey texts Luke a coded message – _Won't be home late for dinner after all :)_ – and pockets her phone as she dusts herself off. She's confirmed that Hux _does_ exist, at least, and it's a step in the right direction.

 

–

 

The sun's barely dipping under the horizon when Rey's neck prickles with the awareness of being watched. She's in the heart of downtown D'Qar after reporting in with Leia, and she swallows down the sudden flash of nervousness she feels. Hopefully she hasn't just compromised one of the Resistance strongholds, but there will be time to consider the ramifications of such later.

“Hello,” she says casually, and at least her tail is smart enough to reveal themselves rather than feign ignorance at being detected.

The man who materializes in front of her in front of her is tall, and thin, and his movements are absolutely silent. She's spent far too much time around his kind to be startled by the quick appearance, though, and merely quirks an eyebrow at him.

He inclines his head toward her in greeting, although his face remains placid as he looks down at her. He'd be attractive if he wasn't a damned blood-sucker, that's for sure. He's pale with short ginger hair, and his aristocratic features look vaguely disgusted despite his apparent lack of emotion.

“Can I help you?” Rey asks, placing a hand on her hip. She lightly fingers the dagger hidden just beneath her clothing, and it is a tangible comfort in the face of her enemy.

“Unlikely,” he says smoothly, and if she wasn't absolutely convinced he was a member of the Undead before, the quick flash of fangs as he speaks solidifies the belief. He's sizing her up like a potential meal, and Rey refuses to be intimidated by his appearance.

“I'll just be on my way, then,” she says loftily before brushing past him. They're in much too public of a place for outright violence, and it is the only reason she considers turning her back on him. Even vampires are held to a certain standard of not exposing themselves to the general public, and it builds confidence to know that even the worst of their kind won't violate such a measure. It's also possible he doesn't know who she is beyond being a hunter, and she's certainly not about to reveal her hand before he reveals his.

“I would tread carefully if I were you, Rey,” he says as she walks away, and she's proud of the fact that her spine doesn't even stiffen. The volume of his voice has not increased at all, but even over the distance, she can hear him perfectly. “You might uncover something unpleasant.”

It's a silent threat, and certainly not one to be taken lightly. Rey continues on her way, resisting the urge to rub her hands down her arms to dispel the goosebumps that have risen across her skin.

Hux knows they're investigating him, then. It's not the worst-case scenario, but still fairly bad, considering the fact that the element of surprise has now been eliminated. He also knows exactly who she is, which is of more immediate concern. The vamp hadn't even attempted to enthrall her and lure her out of the public area, which means that he's aware of her innate resistance, and if he's that knowledgeable about her then he absolutely knows she's deeply involved with the Resistance.

Rey exhales a calming breath and wanders around the city aimlessly for hours. She returns home only when the sun rises, its warming presence signifying safety in a way that nothing else can.

 

–

   

Ben calls her in the middle of the day, and she just barely refrains from yelling at him as she jerks into consciousness. He _has_ to be aware of her sleeping schedule – hell, he's probably on a similar one, and the quick logical jump has her feeling rather irked.

“What?” she snaps into her phone.

“I've found something,” he says coolly and without preamble. He sounds almost too nonchalant, and Rey reads between the lines: this _something_ is important. “Can I come by?”

She scowls. One of the tragic downfalls of the proliferation of technology in the 21st century is how difficult it is to maintain a secure line of communication. “You woke me up. Give me thirty minutes and bring Luke, if you can.”

As annoying as it is to have her sleep interrupted, it will provide her with a good opportunity to tell them about her encounter with the redheaded vampire from yesterday.

Ben tersely agrees and hangs up, and she flops back onto her bed in frustration.

A quick glance at the time informs her that she's only slept for about three hours, and she gives herself a grace period of ten minutes before finally forcing herself out of bed. It means she doesn't have time for a shower, but her (mostly) unwelcome guests can surely deal with her general grossness. It could be considered fair punishment for waking her up.

Fortunately, the shirt she'd slipped into before passing out in bed is baggy enough that she doesn't even bother with a bra, and she quickly throws on a pair of shorts before running a hand through her hair. Her room's a bit of a mess, with laundry strewn about haphazardly and hunter weapons littering the floor, but she doesn't have time to pick up. She'll just shut her bedroom door so the boys don't see the mess, or something.

Heading to the bathroom, Rey grabs her toothbrush and wearily brushes her teeth as she stares at herself in the mirror.

The bruise across her face has mostly faded into a yellowish green monstrosity, and the dark smears underneath her eyes complement the one sprawling across her cheekbone. She looks utterly exhausted, and growls a curse under her breath at Ben.

She tugs her hair through a hairband and into a high ponytail, quickly applies deodorant, and meanders into the kitchen.

The kettle's already prepped with filtered water, fortunately, and Rey flicks on the stove and grabs a clean(ish) mug.

“Ugh, almost out,” she mutters to herself as she pulls out the Folgers canister of instant coffee from a cabinet. It's nearly empty, and she doles out the proper amount into her empty mug as she makes a mental note to run out and grab some more within the next few days.

Ben finds her leaning against the counter, eyes closed as she inhales the scent of the still too-hot coffee cupped between her hands.

"How can you drink that filth?” are the first words out of his mouth, and she wistfully regrets allowing him to come over.

Rey will also defend her crappy instant coffee to the death. “Not all of us have the luxury of freely accessing the Skywalker fortune,” she says, opening her eyes and glaring at him as she protectively curls the mug closer to her.

“It's the Skywalker fortune that gives you paychecks in the first place,” he shoots back. “And you're the brat who refuses additional help outside of what the Resistance pays you.”

“Because I'm _not_ a charity case, Solo,” she says, and then a bit more frantically: “Don't you _dare_ throw it out,” as he dangles the plastic container over her garbage.

Luke arrives, then, and he is her saving grace because Ben shoots a disgusted glance at the instant coffee before gingerly placing it back on the counter instead of the trash can.

Her mentor's arrival makes her feel a bit under-prepared for hosting guests, and she moves to the pantry after setting down her mug far, _far_ away from Ben Solo. “I don't have much to entertain you guys with,” she says as she rummages through the shelves for some kind of snack for them to munch on. “But... Ah! Here we go.” In her stash of sugar-filled treats, she's uncovered an unopened carton of Oreos. It will have to do.

Ben accepts the package with a sarcastic, “Thank you, oh gracious host,” and Rey manages to refrain from smacking him in the head.

Instead, she grabs a few precious cookies from her treacherous partner's grasp, and motions for Luke to sit at her mismatched dining table and chairs.

“I've never been more grateful that you both have a large age difference,” Luke says as he takes a seat. “I don't think my sanity could have taken it if I had to train the two of you simultaneously.”

Although she knows it's a joke, Rey can't help but flush at the words. “I was a flawless student,” she says lightly, raising her voice to drown out Ben's disbelieving snort. “And I bet Ben was awful.”

“He really was,” Luke agrees, as though his nephew isn't in the room, and she's grateful that her mentor acknowledges how much of a brat Ben Solo can be.

Luke and Ben set to bickering, which is mostly enjoyable to watch considering the fact that Rey knows that Luke takes _no_ shit from any member of the Organa-Solo family. She lets them throw jabs as she pulls apart an Oreo and licks at the cream filling, but then Ben's clenching his fists in frustration and looking like he wants to storm out of her apartment, so she speaks up.

“Someone was following me yesterday,” she says to get them all back on-topic, and their attention snaps to her. Luke's never been _too_ successful at hiding his concern for her, and she can see his small smile drop after she speaks. “Oh, stop. You both know that I can handle myself. A redheaded, tall vamp trailed me yesterday after I met with Leia at Maz's, and did this whole mysterious threat thing.”

“Do you think he saw you come out of the Cantina?” Ben always gets a bit defensive when his mom plays into things, and she reluctantly moves to placate him. After all, she'd die for Leia too, and it isn't worth irritating him when he's expressing rare worry.

“Mm, I didn't feel him following me until I was a good mile or so away. Everything's so close together downtown, too, so I could have been coming from anywhere.”

“What did he say?” Luke asks, and she can see that Ben's paying her words close attention, now.

“You know how cryptic the bastards are. Something like, 'Tread carefully, or else.'” Both Luke and Ben look much too serious for what really was a fairly simplistic vamp encounter, and she raises her hands to wiggle her fingers at them an attempt to lighten the mood. “Said my name, too, so he obviously knows who I am.”

Ben sucks in a breath. “How could he know that? Where'd you screw up?”

“First of all,” she says, pinning him down with a glower, “I did nothing to _screw up_ . Second of all, how _dare_ you assume a breach in security is automatically a fault of my own?”

“Rey,” Luke says, and she backs down only for his sake. “You're on the same side, remember?”

“Doesn't feel like it when I'm being accused of being sloppy,” she mutters, jerking out of her chair to retrieve her now-cooled mug of coffee.

She didn't really think it possible for a thirty-year-old man to sulkily eat an Oreo cookie, but the image is displayed in front of her as Ben grabs a few from the plastic tray.

“You're not exactly one of the more prolific members of our organization,” Luke says, probably in an attempt to placate her. “I think what Ben's suggesting is that it's peculiar for a leak about to you take place at all.”

Well, that's a much more diplomatic way of putting it. And a slightly more terrifying one, considering the fact that confidential information about the Resistance is warded heavily with magic and nearly impenetrable.

If someone's doing their research on her, then they've been _very_ good at covering their tracks.

“What'd you call me for anyway, Solo?” she asks, mostly to distract herself from the idea of being spied on in an undetectable way.

“I think I've honed in on a nest location,” he says after a moment, adjusting to the shift in topic. “You've been tailing some of the homeless vampires, but I managed to track a newborn somewhere that reeked of vamp stench.”

“You think it's one of Hux's?”

“Covens are rare around here because of the Resistance strongholds,” Rey reasons, and it does make sense. If there's a nest of vampires somewhere close by, chances are it has something to do with the missing teenagers.

“The two of you should scout it out, then,” Luke decides. “Do _not_ engage, but go see what's going on. Ben, are you alright to prepare the necessary spells, or should I ask Leia to assist you?”

“I can do it on my own, uncle,” Ben says petulantly.

Luke smiles at him fondly. “Of course. I was merely asking.”

“Give me a day or two to recover,” Rey says, interrupting what is probably some weird Skywalker familial moment. “ _Someone_ woke me up when they knew I had just finished a night of hunting, and I need more sleep than you mages do, anyway.”

Ben looks like he's about to snark at her about a perceived weakness, but Luke casts him a sharp look and he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

“Two days,” Luke agrees, before pushing away from the table and standing. Ben does the same, but not before grabbing a few more Oreos. Rey pretends she doesn't see it. “We'll leave you to it. Get some rest.”

The mages leave shortly after, and Rey slouches in her chair after they're gone, considering the conversation.

They've only been on the case for about a month, now, and where Luke appeared to be at a standstill, Rey and Ben are uncovering more about the plot with every day that passes.

It almost seems too easy. She's not so unseasoned as to shove down any instinctual feelings, and Rey feels a distinct sense of uneasiness in regard to the mission.

 

–

 

Ben does recon on the potential hideout and Rey takes point, protecting him as he casts detection spells. They're in the middle of a forest, thankfully with the sun high in the sky, and almost out of her line of vision she sees the magicked shroud that is his current target.

To her trained eyes, she can pick out the seam of magic that cleverly disguises the vampire's hideaway. She knows that, to an ordinary human, it would just seem like a steep rock face, and if nothing else she's grateful that Ben was the one to track the newborn through the forest. She might've missed it if she didn't know what to look for.

Ben looks much more peaceful and at ease when he's not trying to communicate with a member of the human race. He's surrounded by his element as the magic sends careful tendrils toward the hideout, and Rey sneaks a look at the calm, emotionless visage of his closed eyes and relaxed lips.

Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to get along with him if he was always this tranquil, but wishing for impossibilities does her no favors.

They're a safe distance away from the vamp nest, and protected by the sunlight, and while Rey will not let down her guard when her partner's in a vulnerable position, she does allow herself the luxury of resting against a nearby tree as he performs his spells.

 

–

 

A few days later, Ben wakes her up with a loud knock on her flimsy apartment door. The harshness of winter has set in full force, and her heater is pushing warm air into the room as she stomps to wrench it open, annoyed.

“We're going to the hideout,” he says bluntly, stepping past her as soon as she opens the door.

“Sanctioned by who?” she asks, stifling a yawn. It's only after he stands impatiently in her tiny living room that she realizes he means _now,_ and she looks down at the thin tank top and worn boxers she's wearing.

“By me,” he replies a bit flippantly. “They triggered the spell I cast before we left last time. Significant movement means they may have found out we discovered them, and we've got to move quickly if we want to catch them off-guard.”

Rey doesn't miss the way he didn't say anything about Luke or Leia, but keeps her mouth shut. She has to believe that he's responsible enough not to march them directly to their deaths, and he _is_ the leader of the two of them, after all.

Holding up a palm, she says, “Five minutes,” and heads into her room to prepare.

An hour later finds them trekking through fresh snowfall. It is _way_ too cold to be meandering through the snow at six in the evening, and Rey has no qualms whatsoever about informing Ben of it. Several times.

She can almost see the aura of annoyance surrounding him, and decides to switch it up as she bundles herself up tighter in her jacket.

“I can't believe his base is a _cave,_ ” Rey grumbles disbelievingly as they move on foot through the snow-filled forest. “It's positively neanderthal.”

“You'd be surprised at how easily things can deceive you,” he says, and because it's not a sarcastic or rude retort, she doesn't respond.

She's trying not to think of how bad of an idea it is to go this far into vamp territory unsanctioned by their superiors. Ben seems harried and rushed, and she knows it must be the magic he laid over the vamp hideout that's communicating with him and has him so on-edge.

Rey presses her fingers against the scabbard of the sword resting against her hip. She's wicked with her sword, although it's much more difficult to conceal than her silver dirks and daggers, and she's glad that she opted to bring the larger weapon with her rather than rely on smaller ones.

The air is tangy with the humming presence of magic as they arrive at the mouth of the cave, and she steels herself for battle. They step inside, past the illusionary barrier, and somehow, it's chillier inside than it was in the crisp forest air.

Things go to shit fairly quickly after that.

They're well into the carved-out tunnels of Hux's nest without spotting a single living (or Undead) soul when the path diverges in two separate directions.

"No,” she says immediately, because Ben's already opening his mouth and pointing toward one of the darkened corridors. “We're not splitting up.”

“I'm your senior,” he says, and she can tell his jaw is clenched by how he grates the words out. “And in charge of this operation, if you cannot recall.”

She's better at combat than he is, but they work better as a team. Mages require time to cast offensive spells, and while she knows Luke would never allow his nephew to rely only on magic in the heat of a battle, splitting up is not a wise option.

It comes down to committing treason or letting him figure out how bad of a judgment call he's making, and Rey hefts the comforting weight of her sword onto her shoulder. “Yes, _sir_ ,” she says caustically, even as a niggling sense of foreboding worms its way into her consciousness.

“I've got the tracking spell still on you,” he says, and then, “And if you're hurt, it'll protect you. Nothing too major, but it might heal a wound or mend a bone if need be.”

“Of course it wasn't _just_ a tracking spell,” Rey spits. It feels wrong, even knowing that the spell was cast in an effort to protect her. She doesn't _need_ his help, or she'd fucking ask for it.

Ben just looks at her warily before he heads down his own path, and she's reluctantly pleased to see that he has unsheathed his own sword before leaving her to her own route. At least he's taking it seriously.   

Her way down the fork in the cave leads her to the fledgling barracks, and she doesn't come across a single vamp that's strong enough to be Brendol Hux. They're all weak newborns, untrained in battle and unsure of their own physical limits, and she slays them relentlessly with little thought. If she weren't such a seasoned hunter, it would pain her to cut down the very same teenagers that Luke had been searching for, but they've all been tainted by the infection of the Undead. Turning a human into a vampire is no easy task, and more often than not it warps minds radically until they've become monsters that need to be taken down as swiftly as possible.

Despite her annoyance at Ben's meddling spell, she is thankful for it. A clever vamp had managed to land a good hit directly into her solar plexus, and although he died a quick, painful death, she had felt the bones crack under the pressure of his outstretched hand.

Ben's spell tingles as it melds the bones back together, but it's effective, and she spares the thought to begrudgingly thank him after she kills him for sending her into this field of landmines.

A few well-timed exploding silver grenades and sword slices later, she's cleared the living quarters of the vamps. Rey doubles back down the slightly dank corridor to find where Ben split onto his own path, and the sharp pain of her broken ribs subsides the longer she walks down the path.

She finds him covered in the ashes of their prey, leaning heavily against a doorframe.

“Shit, Ben,” she curses as she moves to support him. A quick sweep of the room indicates no immediate threat, and his weight is heavy as he leans against her.

“Hux is dead,” Ben grits out, pressing a hand to his neck as he breathes raggedly. “As are his fledglings.”

Rey's never found it this difficult to focus before. It's fairly clear that Ben's cleaned house: the hideout of Brendol Hux is littered with the remains of vampires, and they're the only living creatures left. But Ben looks – _wobbly,_ for lack of a better word, and she's never seen him so vulnerable before. His typically cocky facade is cemented in her mind, and it's as if the illusion has been shattered.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and it's obviously a stupid question, because he huffs a breath of laughter against her neck as she maneuvers him into a better position.

Rey thinks better of trying to half-carry him out of the cave after he doesn't respond, and swallows down the panic as she carefully lays him down on the stone floor. With dread, she realizes that her repositioning of him has revealed the fact that he’s been bitten. Blood loss from vamps is deadly more often than not, and _shit._

She doesn't _like_ Ben, of course, but he's Leia's son and Luke's nephew and her fucking partner at the moment, and she doesn't want him _dead._ It's also not the first time she's been on a mission for the Resistance and had things go sour, and she needs to get her head in the fucking game or else Ben's in more danger than he needs to be in.

“Okay,” she says, more to herself than him. “Okay.”

Setting to business, Rey slips a hand into Ben's pockets to search for his Tokens. Withdrawing a small bone and a golden ring, she murmurs the incantations he'd taught her earlier on their walk, and is satisfied by the glow of the small objects before they dissolve entirely in her hands.

Physical manifestations of spells only hold their form until they are summoned, and Ben inhales loudly as the dust from his Tokens swirl in the air and envelop him in a subtle green glow.

“Rey – ”

“Shut up, Ben,” she hisses. “Your reserve spells should stabilize you until we can make it to a hospital.”

“Rey.”

“You just need a transfusion, stop talking and wasting your energy – ”

“ _Rey.”_

Something in the tone of his voice makes her stop, and she glares down at him. He's a fucking idiot, is what he is, but the glow settles around him and solidifies in the slightest bit – she wouldn't have noticed if not for the fact that she's paying excruciatingly detailed attention to him right now – and she purses her lips.

“Hux didn't bite me,” he says. Rey can feel her heart thudding against her ribcage, and she wants to yell at him, _Obviously, a single vamp couldn't have drained you this quickly,_ but then he's grasping at her arm with a shaking, blood-slicked hand.

“What – ”

“It was an Elder,” he says, voice almost a sigh, and she feels herself go still. Ben's pale from the blood loss, and Rey feels sick as her eyes fix on the still-oozing puncture wounds that stand out starkly against his neck.

Alright, fuck stakeouts. _This_ is the worst fucking part of the job.

The Resistance has laws that all hunters must abide by. They were put into place centuries ago, and exist for good reason, but Rey has always considered herself lucky that she was never put into a position where invoking the laws was necessary.

Her luck has definitely run out.

Elder vampires are almost nonexistent, born in vampirism rather than being turned, and the presence of one indicates a much more serious threat than they'd originally thought.

“We underestimated Hux,” Ben affirms, and even through the translucent green aura surrounding him, attempting to fight off the infection, Rey can see he's dying. His breaths come faster, shorter, and urgently she finds him pressing something cold and metal into her hand. “He wasn't a leader, just an underling. Tell Luke it's the First Order, okay?”

 _He's talking too much,_ Rey thinks through the odd haze that's settled in her mind. It's common sense when you're injured: conserve your energy, wait for a savior, don't move. Your body's already working in overtime, there's no reason to stress it unduly –

“I need you to do it,” Ben says, and Rey swallows around the sudden lump in her throat.

She opens her mouth to speak, to deny him, but the words don't come. Instead she stares down at him, at the near-white pallor of his skin that contrasts with the grey ash that he's covered in, and lets out a high, desperate noise.

“Do it,” he growls at her, and then his teeth snap shut as he starts to convulse. It's one of the first steps toward transformation, she knows.

Rey closes her eyes and does what is necessary.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely and encouraging reviews, you guys! I read each and every one and value them greatly.

Leia takes the news poorly.

It's not entirely unexpected, but it still makes her feel positively awful. Rey knows she must look a sight, covered in blood and sweat and ash, but she has a responsibility to inform the Resistance's leader immediately when assignments go south, and this is no exception. She dutifully reports everything to the best of her ability, averting her gaze as the older woman hitches an uneven breath between her words.

Her chest aches something fierce as Leia cries, and it's not entirely because of the broken ribs she's nursing. No one in the Skywalker family deserves this, least of all one of the nicest women she's ever met, and with a sinking sense of certainty Rey knows that the worst is yet to come.

They need her to be strong right now, and she's already failed them once. It will not – _can_ not - happen again. She should have never let Ben go on alone, should have never allowed their petty feuds to compromise the integrity of a mission...

Rey absolutely dreads talking to Han, especially given his well-known hatred of all vampire-kind. Leia is in no shape to coherently explain the situation to her husband, though, and Rey steels herself for the conversation. She can't afford to think of how much _she's_ hurting, not when they're all hurting in much more acute ways, and she falls into the defense mechanism of apathy as she informs Ben's father of the news. Judging by the way he stiffens when she explains what happened at the hideout, Rey has more than succeeded in fanning the flames of Han Solo's enmity toward the Undead.

Luke is more silently contemplative than she would have thought he'd be. Given Leia's unabashed tears, and Han's quietly boiling anger, she had expected her mentor to have some sort of volatile reaction, but his thoughtful silence is almost as unnerving as the other reactions.

“I'm sorry,” Rey manages when his silence is too loud to bear, and she's honestly surprised that she has yet to cry herself and mourn the loss.

“You did what you believed to be right,” Luke says to her, and Rey can feel her eyes burning with the unwanted presence of tears. His words are the tipping point, and she nearly bites through her own lip as she forces herself not to speak.

 _Fuck what I thought was right,_ she wants to say. _I was too much of a coward to do what I should have._

Rey wonders if it would have been harder to deliver different news to Ben's parents.

The fact that Luke won't even blame her for this outcome hurts in some unreasonable, potent way, and she gives in to the temptation, hugging him tight and swallowing down her cries.

 

-

 

Luke's next assignment for her is immediate and almost revolting, but he is her direct superior and it would be a lie to say that she wasn't expecting orders like this. While the code of conduct for Resistance agents is not particularly stringent, there are some boundaries that Rey never intended to willingly cross.

Stealing from D'Qar General Hospital is definitely one of them, and she refuses to think too much about the implications of her current actions.

Finn had offered to do it for her, once he'd been alerted of her return and appropriately debriefed, and Rey almost wishes she had taken him up on the offer. But that wouldn't be fair to him, and she is in absolutely no position to shove off the responsibility of what needs to be done.

Exhaustion settles deeply into her bones by the time she's in position, although it isn't like she's unfamiliar with the feeling. She just wants to get this done and over with, especially when time is a delicate factor, and she's immensely thankful that it's a quiet operation. The thought of a hot shower and the comfort of her bed power her through her work, and she tries to ignore the warning signs of weariness that her body signals.

Slipping on a pair of scrubs and swiping a badge of a passing nurse is childplay to Rey at this point, and she quickly navigates to the appropriate section of the hospital before ensuring that she's alone.

Confident that she's gone undetected, Rey grabs one of the bright red coolers nearby and carefully transfers the contents of one fridge into it. The stored blood bags nestle tightly against one another, and satisfied, Rey zips it up and heaves the box's strap over her shoulder.

Leaving the hospital is a bit more risky than entering, but it's almost five in the morning, and not many hospital occupants take the stairs when elevators are a much more appealing option.

Most of the vamps in D'Qar prefer fresh blood, and it is the first time that Rey's thankful for such a thing. Stealing from the hospital would've been significantly more difficult if blood theft was a common occurrence.

Even that thought makes her grimace, though.

 

–

 

When she finally steps foot back inside the Resistance base, her body aching with fatigue, Luke informs her that he's refusing to talk to anyone. He's gone radio silent, almost catatonic, and she shoulders the cooler of stolen blood and forces herself into action.

“I'll do what I can,” she says, a bit weakly, and her mentor presses a hand onto her shoulder reassuringly.

Rey finds him in one of their interrogation rooms. He's not held captive, exactly, but there is a hunter keeping guard outside the door of the room that she doesn't recognize. The guard obviously expects her, though, and lets her into the room without a word.

Luke's words had prepared her for it, but she is still struck by how unnaturally still he is. He's sitting calmly at the bland table placed in the center of the room, hands folded in front of him as he stares blankly at the wall. The calmness feels artificial, as though he is a figure cut into marble rather than a living creature.

Her heart twinges as she reconsiders the evaluation. Of course he can remain perfectly still: after all, now he doesn't need to breathe.

Ben's stare is fixed on the wall as she slips into the chair opposite him.

“Hey,” she says softly, and he doesn't move an inch. What makes her feel uneasy isn't that she's sitting across from him, but rather that there is no protocol for this kind of behavior. She has never had any reason to be cordial with a vamp before, and she's certainly never actively attempted to cozy on up with one in the past. But this is _Ben,_ and she's responsible for not driving a stake through his heart. She's duty-bound to follow him down this path, because she was too much of a coward to end his life when he demanded it.

She's honestly too worn out to even rouse him into their typical banter. He probably wouldn't appreciate it, anyway, what with his entire world being upturned in the course of a few hours and everything. Briefly she wonders how much he hates her for this, but the thought passes as she reminds herself of why she's there at all.

Rey settles for a polite yet cautious tone. “I've brought you some – food,” she says haltingly, moving a hand to pat at the transport cooler. “You'll feel a bit better once you. Uh. Eat.”

There is no response. He doesn't even twitch a muscle, and she chokes down the irrational giggle threatening to bubble out of her throat. _Is it even considered_ eating _when you're limited to a liquid diet?_ she thinks, but Ben's still ignoring her and the moment of hysteria passes as she drops the cooler on the table to open it up.

“I wonder if it's better to heat it up or serve it cold?” she asks aloud, mostly to break through the tension in the air as she dips a hand inside and grabs a bag.

Still nothing.

“Ben, you need to eat something.” Even she can detect the hint of pleading threading through her voice, and he grants her the slightest of movements.

His locks dark eyes with her then, and the moment feels tense despite his detached demeanor. They stare at one another, Rey attempting to gauge his mood and Ben sizing her up – or _something_ –

“I'm not hungry,” he says finally, although she knows it's a lie. All hunters know how ravenous newborns are when they've just turned.

Rey spent most of her formative years in the desolate desert, and she learned very early on about how to survive. Knowing the mannerisms of local wildlife were quintessential to not falling beneath the pressures of natural selection, and she's known for most of her life not to follow the injured-sounding yips of coyotes and to avoid the burrowed holes of scorpion dens.

And she knows all about snakes.

Venomous snakes are always dangerous, but it's the babies you have to pay extra attention to. Matured snakes are capable of dry bites – of restraining their poisons, of issuing a warning to any predator that threatens their safety. It's almost a mark of kindness, to be spared from the agonizing pain of the venom, and she grew up on tales of Jakku citizens who defied the odds of death when it came to adult snake bites.

But, babies...

Babies can't control themselves, or their venom levels. When they bite, they unknowingly pump dangerously high levels of poison into the bodies of their victims.

Ben reminds her of a fresh hatchling, fangs fairly dripping with unrestrained toxins.

“At least try to eat a little,” Rey says as she watches him, slipping a knife out of her pocket to slice open the plastic casing of the blood bag. Maybe the scent of blood will tempt him enough to drink it?

Focused on the motion, she barely registers how quickly his hand shoots out to grab her wrist tightly and halt her action. She stills the motion, willing her suddenly racing heart to calm, and turns her gaze toward him.

“How long do you think you've been in this room?” he asks, fingers circling around the thin skin of her wrist.

His touch is cool, distracting, and the question blindsides her. She feels her brow furrow as she contemplates the answer. It has to be a positive sign if he's initiating a conversation, right? “About five minutes, maybe?”

“I've thought of seven different ways to kill you in those five minutes,” he says quietly. There is no emotion in his voice, and the absence of feeling is truly what catches her attention. He's confident in the words, stating them as mere fact. There is no emotional attachment, no anguished contemplation of the ramifications of such a thing.

Ben Solo has been, almost casually, considering how best to kill her.

Vampirism truly is a cruel infection, if this is what it does to people.

Rey keeps her head held high and does not allow him to see her shame for allowing this to happen at all. “And you know I'm able to take care of myself,” she says, and her words _finally_ get a reaction out of him.

He sneers at her, and the loop of his fingers around her wrist tightens uncomfortably as his agitation grows. She thinks absently that he's bruising her, but the vague concern falls away with his next words. “Maybe you don't _get it,_ Rey, so let me put it into simple words for you: now that I've been turned, the best course of action for _everyone here_ is to put me down. Don't entertain this childish notion of feeding me and treating me like I'm anything but a monster.”

She can't possibly blame him for feeling this way. They're hunters, after all. Putting down vampires, as Ben had so eloquently phrased it, truly is their job. And yet...

“I've thought you were a monster since the first day we met,” she says, pulling her arm away from his grasp, and the words are true enough. Ben's always been an extremely powerful mage, and his sheer presence in her life has irked her from the beginning. Only an aberration could have pitted her against him so early in their interactions - she has never been as combative with anyone as she is ( _was)_ with Ben.

“This is not _funny,”_ he spits back, and she stares back at him boldly.

“Of course it isn't, but you're only hurting yourself by refusing the meal.” Now that he's talking, and still showing signs of being the stubborn ass she knows Ben Solo is, it's almost like she can forget what he's turned into.

The thought immediately has her stomach twisting into knots, because Ben Solo is not the same and never will be again. To question that philosophy would involve consideration of the transformation of every vampire she's ever slain before and she definitely does not have the mental capacity to do such a thing right now.

“Good,” he says lowly, withdrawing his hand from across the table and lacing his fingers together once again.

Rey stands up, annoyed at how her body sways against her will. She's running on fumes by now, and it's clear that Ben's not going to talk anymore.

“Drink the blood,” she says, unsure as to whether or not her voice is as steady as she believes it to be. “I'll be back later with more.”

He's back to staring blankly at the wall, and she purses her lips in annoyance. She's not so cruel as to belittle the fact that he's currently in the midst of a horrific crisis, but the bags of blood were meant to be an olive branch, and if he's going to stubbornly refuse them then she cannot be held entirely responsible for her emotional reactions. It's much easier to blame him, anyway.

Rapping on the door to notify the hunter just outside, Rey takes one more look at Ben.

Assignments (unsuccessfully and successfully) completed, Luke dismisses her. He tells her quietly to get some rest, and she has absolutely no objections whatsoever to the command. Hauling the dead weight (ha _fucking_ ha) of a man twice your size with almost no supernatural proclivities out of a forest has been taxing on both her psyche and her body, and she somehow manages a nod at her mentor before leaving.

The walk back to her apartment complex passes in a blur, and she quickly strips her filthy clothing off to rinse off in the shower. By the time the water runs cold, she feels as clean as she's going to be, and the exhaustion hits her hard because she can't be fucked about the fact that she's collapsing in bed with just a towel wrapped around her frame.

Rey falls asleep before her head even hits the pillow.

 

–

 

When she finally wakes up, there are seven missed calls on her phone. Turns out she's slept straight through the day and well into nighttime, and a quick mental calculation reveals that she's been unconscious for close to seventeen hours.

Rey knows that she needed the rest, but now she's caught in the haze of oversleep, and it takes longer than expected to rouse herself fully. She frowns at her phone as she scrolls through the missed calls, reminded of the botched assignment and choice she'd made. They both weigh heavily on her mind, but Luke's called her several times since then, and she shoves down the heaviness to focus on more immediate matters.

If contacting her was immensely urgent, someone would have shown up at her apartment rather than communicating via phone. Reassured in the knowledge that things must not have gotten _too_ bad during her apparent coma, she calls Luke back as she stretches in bed, gratified by the loud popping of her spinal cord.

Her mentor requests her presence as soon as possible, and while she feels emotionally drained at even the prospect of showing up to work after such a taxing evening, she knows that the rest of the Skywalker family is probably still working in overtime. She owes them every ounce of her effort and presence, and such a debt will likely not disappear for a very, very long time.

Luke is already sending out hunters on reconnaissance missions to gather information about the First Order, Rey finds as she enters the nondescript building of one of their outposts. It makes her wonder how much they know about the situation now that it isn't just her and Ben on the case, and it gives her an idea about the nature of their meeting. Her mentor will likely be all business, and she mentally prepares herself for a new assignment.

Ben is not present for their meeting, although Rey doesn't truly expect him to be involved. He has enough on his plate without worrying about other vamps right now, and even with his help they likely would not make much progress.

She admits to herself that not thinking of Ben right now is probably for the best, and spares a wry thought at how efficient she's become at compartmentalizing things in the last 36 hours.

By the time they finish speaking, Luke seems dead on his feet. _We've traded places,_ she thinks sardonically, and to complete the bizarre role-reversal she rests a hand on his forearm and tells him to go to sleep.

It is a testament to how exhausted Luke must be that he doesn't even argue with her, and as Rey makes her way to her down from his office, she thinks on their meeting's recently-revealed facts.

Fact number one: The Resistance has clearly underestimated the First Order, which no one in their wide array of contacts has even _heard_ of.

Fact number two: the vampire who sired Ben is, as the evidence seems to point toward, the goddamned _leader_ of the First Order. Apparently, while Rey slept, Ben had consented to his uncle casting a memory spell to evaluate what truly happened. She's more than surprised to see how nonresistant Ben was to provide such a thing, and she reasons that he must've had at least the slightest bit of blood before meeting with Luke. For some reason, the thought of it satisfies her. It should be repulsive, to consider what his diet now consists of, but hearing of his compliance instills none of those feelings in her.

Luke's spell had gleaned a physical description of the Elder who turned Ben, and in the midst of the commotion he had also discerned that Hux's final breaths were a gasping, “Supreme Overlord, I have done as you asked,” before the Elder vampire had smiled down at his underling and delivered a killing blow upon the redhead with a bone-white weapon of some sort.

(This is significant news to Rey, who had assumed Ben had taken out Hux on his own. Vampires don't typically kill their own, not without good reason, and she adds it to the ever-growing perplexities that surround this mystery.

The musings bring her to the third fact, which is the most concerning.)

Fact number three: by proxy of facts one and two, the Resistance now has a potentially magnificent double agent on their hands.

And Rey had foolishly thought that things couldn't possibly get any more complicated than they already were.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title: Exposition out the ass.
> 
> (Sorry this took so long, had to take finals!)

_"Hey there, pretty," a voice says from behind her, and she rolls her eyes in response to the come-on._

_She's much too exhausted to bother with someone hitting on her right now, and really, it's too dark to be lingering around outside talking to strangers._

_"_ _I'm sorry, I'm not interested,” she says as she turns around to face him, and in her humble opinion it's a fairly gentle rejection. She's only on campus this late because one of her professors holds office hours at ridiculous hours of the day, and she just wants to go home and collapse in her comfortable bed. He's probably just a horny frat boy looking for an easy fuck, anyway, and while she_ certainly _isn't about to provide him with such, she feels too tired to be outright hostile._

_He doesn't look like anyone she recognizes, although that doesn't mean much given her typical standoffish behavior. He's about her height, with slicked-back hair that looks light even in the darkness surrounding them, and there's something about the way he's looking at her that makes her vaguely uncomfortable, but she pushes it aside in favor of offering him an apologetic smile._

_The man sizes her up very obviously, eyes slowly raking up her frame, and she feels the first inklings of real annoyance. “Now, now,” he says, and she just barely refrains from rolling her eyes again at what he probably assumes to be a very suave tone, “I'm only just getting started.”_

_"Not interested,” she says again, a bit more firmly. It's certainly not the first time she's had to deal with such persistence, but the more he speaks, the more irritated she finds herself._

_She turns to walk away from him, but the man has the gall to splay a palm over her shoulder and spin her around until she's facing him again. It sends a hot lance of aggravation through her, and she clenches her hands into tight fists and glares at him. “Seriously. Back the fuck off,” she bites out, offering him one last chance before she's forced to resort to physical measures to get this creep away from her._

_The uneasy feeling intensifies as he smirks at her and actually opens his mouth to_ lick his lips, _and she's about to punch him in his stupid, aggressive face before the glint of overly-sharp canines catches her immediate attention._

 _Are those_ fangs _, she thinks a tad frantically as his free hand clamps down hard on her other shoulder. Instinctively, she attempts to work her way out of his grip, ducking down to avoid his touch._

_"Stop struggling,” he growls, unrelenting as his nails cut hard into the exposed skin of her shoulders, and she's suddenly overcome with an odd, fuzzy feeling. It makes her freeze for the briefest of moments as she stares wide-eyed at him, despite the way her skin crawls as his hands weigh down on her shoulders._

_“Much better," he says, satisfaction thick in his voice now that he believes he's won the brief struggle. “Now, you'll come along with me, won't you, pretty?”_

_A_ _shudder of revulsion jolts through her entire being, and startles her into action. “No,” she says softly, and the surprise she can see in his eyes gives her the courage to jerk out of his grip. “Leave me alone.”_

 _The man sneers at her, and she can very clearly see that yes, those_ are _fucking fangs in his fucking mouth, and she attempts to shove herself away from him a bit desperately even as he looks directly into her eyes and says, “You_ will _come with me.”_

 _The weird feeling settles over her again, and a shiver trembles down her spine as the man leans closer to her neck and – fucking_ sniffs _her neck, what the fucking fuck –_

_"Oh, shit,” someone nearby swears as she's about to snarl another denial at him and knee him in the fucking groin, but before she can even move someone else is intercepting them and shoving her away from the asshole._

_Her first thought is that the foul-mouthed man attempting to rescue her is quick on his feet. From the moonlight she can tell that he has some kind of dark jacket covering his upper body, and it stands out to her as odd because it's relatively warm outside despite the late hour. He's promptly maneuvered himself between her and the creep, and she hears him say, “It's time to walk away, don't you think?”_

_"Mind your own business,” her aggressor snarls, and drops into a combative stance._

_"Don't make this messier than it needs to be,” the man replies, and even in the darkness she can see the glint of some sort of weapon held in his hand._

What the fuck is going on, _she thinks, but the man accosting her freezes as he stares at the weapon. He takes a reluctant step back, and she doesn't allow the tension in her shoulders to dissipate quite yet._

 _"You smell like a fucking_ mutt,” _he spits then, angrily, and jacket-guy smiles in response._

_"There's more where that came from. I'd run and hide now, if I were you. Consider yourself lucky.”_

_The man hisses something, too low for her to understand, before turning on his heel and disappearing into the dark._

_Her apparent savior turns, nonchalantly pockets his weapon, and flashes a brilliant smile at her. “Are you alright?”_

_"_ _I'm fine,” she says slowly, although the lingering soreness across her shoulders indicates that she's likely to suffer from nasty bruises. “But I'm sorry, are we just going to ignore the fact that that guy was a fucking_ vampire _?”_

_The man looks startled at her blunt words before offering a shrug and a sheepish smile. “We should probably go somewhere to talk. I'm Finn.”_

 

Rey wakes up in a bit of a panic, and immediately realizes it's because her blanket is haphazardly tangled around her legs. She must've jerked around in her sleep because of the dream – well, _memory_ is a more appropriate word – and managed to trap herself within the confines of her unyielding comforter.

“Shit,” she mutters, squirming around to free her legs, and when they're finally released from their prison she kicks the blanket away from her.

To her dismay, Rey discovers that her phone is low on battery, which either means her charger's busted or the power's been out. At 15%, it informs her that it's just past three in the afternoon, a few solid few hours before sunset and her subsequent job. Usually she doesn't wake up until the sun's about to dip under the horizon, but in spite of her unpleasant awakening it's a nice feeling to know that she has a handful of hours to kill.

Grimacing at her phone’s low battery indicator, she scrolls through her contacts quickly and makes a mental note to double-check her charger's wiring.

“Finn,” she says as her best friend picks up on the third ring and mutters a hello. “Are you busy?”

“Well, I _was_ sleeping,” he says through a poorly stifled yawn. “But what's up?”

“Sorry,” Rey mutters, though she isn't really. “Woke up a bit early and wanted to see if you were free to grab some food?”

It's a much better prospect than scavenging something from her tiny, sparse kitchen, and she hopes he's up for it.

“If you're paying,” he responds, and she can't help her huge smile.

“Freeloader.”

“Being woken up by a pretty lady isn't all that it's chalked up to be,” Finn bemoans, and Rey lets out a laugh.

“Meet me at Coruscant in thirty, alright?”

 

–

 

Finn Trooper, Rey muses as she's seated at a booth within the restaurant, is her goddamned lifeline in an insane world.

She fiddles idly with the menu as she waits for him, although she doesn't really need to look at it to decide what to eat. Coruscant is a Resistance-allied location and relative safe-zone for supernaturals, and as such she's a regular customer.

“You look tired,” Finn says as he slides into the booth seat opposite her.

“This is me, gracefully accepting your generous compliment,” she drawls, offering him a bland look.

“I _am_ rather full of charm,” he says, and she's about to snark back at him when their waitress suddenly appears at the edge of their table. She's a petite, bubbly thing, and Rey orders a pastrami sandwich before Finn requests some Italian-sounding pasta dish. When the waitress walks away, Finn turns his attention back to her. “Alright, I can tell this is stressing you out. Talk to me.”

“I guess – “ she starts, brow creased as she picks out her words carefully, but there's really no point in prevaricating around the topic. “I guess I'm just not sure I made the right choice with Ben, and it's been eating at me.”

"Poor choice of words,” Finn says lightly as he rips open a bread roll and slathers it with butter. “But that's not the important part, anyway. Who cares if it was the right or wrong decision – what matters is that you made a decision and need to move forward instead of dwelling on the past.”

“What do you mean?” When she closes her eyes, all she can see is Ben. It's as though the image of him lying on the ground, bleeding out, is etched into the back of her eyelids, and if she focuses hard enough then she can almost _feel_ the heavy weight of him in her arms. How exactly is she supposed to quickly move past that?

“Well,” he says, and Rey shoots him a dirty glance because he's talking with his mouth full of food. “What's done is done. I know that sounds like, _super_ cliché and totally unhelpful, but the best thing you can do right now is decide on how you want to treat Ben Solo now that he's been turned.”

It makes sense, she supposes. She hasn't seen him for a few days, now, and the time away from him has helped her adjust to the guilt and the incessant gnawing in her gut that hasn't quite vanished yet.

“I hate what he is,” she says bluntly, and Finn nods in agreement. “But you've seen what happens to most vamps when they first lose their humanity... and Ben didn't seem like that at all.”

With exhaustion no longer clouding her judgment, Rey's had the chance to go over her encounter with Ben plenty of times. Most often, vampires that have been freshly turned go into a sort of manic fit – the reconciliation of being human and _eating_ human is not an easy one, and she's taken down many a vamp still struggling to come to grips with their new existence. Typically, though, they quickly become rabid, insane beasts, fit to be put down before they can manage a kill.

Of course she's met lucid vamps before – bloodsuckers like Hux couldn't have managed to hold the title of ringleader without some sort of competence and freedom from insanity, but she knows that a vampire completely in charge of his mental facilities is not driven by the insanity of newborns. They're much older, more experienced. Significantly more dangerous, especially if they master thrall.

And Ben, despite his clear self-loathing and tendency to withdraw in on himself (and if _that_ isn't a remnant of his human nature then she doesn't know what is), had been lucid, aware, and in full possession of his mind.

“ – but Poe says it might be because of it,” Finn's saying, and Rey frowns as she realizes that she's been lost in her thoughts. “It seems like a viable theory, even if we don't fully understand how the Elders operate.”

She's glad that their waitress brings them their food, then, because it gives her a moment to synthesize what her best friend is telling her.

It's true that the Resistance doesn't know everything about vamps – the only ones who know everything keep such vital information buried deeper than the coffins they sleep in – but Rey's never heard of something like this happening before.

There aren't many instances of Elders turning humans, let alone the anomaly of turning a mage and then abandoning their new progeny to a sworn enemy.

“So you think he's, what, being possessed by the one who turned him?” she asks, considering all plausible outcomes.

Finn snorts, though. “If he's being possessed by his Elder, then that vamp is even better at acting like Ben Solo than _Ben Solo_ is.” At her puzzled look, he waves a hand in the air. “I was on guard duty a few days ago – Leia wants him under 24/7 observation, still – and he treated me like he always has. Even worse, maybe, considering that he kept trying to goad me into siccing my 'fucking disgusting mongrel boyfriend' on him.”

“He didn't,” Rey says, eyes wide. Ben's never been a huge fan of the pack that hunts vamps along with them, but she hasn't heard of him being outright hostile toward them.

“Only Ben could manage to stay exactly the same after being turned into a vampire,” he replies, and despite her mortification she finds herself smiling at his words.

Maybe all isn't lost.

“Okay,” she says. “I'm not too sure I'll be able to easily move forward, but if he's insulting Poe, then he's obviously feeling better. I can work with that.”

 

–

 

It's just as well that she's out and about before sunset, because Luke requests her presence at the base not long after her and Finn part ways. Rey makes her way into the warded building and shoots a casual greeting at the hunter guarding the door.

No one stops her as she winds through the hallways, and she’s grateful. Luke surely wants to talk to her further about the Ben Situation (serious enough to warrant capital letters, in her humble opinion) and any extraneous conversations would only be exhausting.

“Cozy,” Rey says as she slips into Luke's office and sees Ben leaning against one of the walls. Maybe she can play off this as a more casual encounter than it really is? She’s truly comforted by the fact that Ben doesn’t appear to be under hunter observation anymore, at least. “Out of quarantine, then?”

Ben scowls at her, and for a moment she’s floored at how startlingly _normal_ it looks on him. He’s still much too pale for her liking - something about the complete lack of blood cycling through his circulatory system - but he stands tall and doesn’t seem so intent on begging those around him to end his non-life anymore.

It’s a vast improvement, and she feels significantly more comfortable about tossing the jab at him.

“Rey,” Luke greets her, and his smile is small but genuine.

“I appreciate you giving me a few days off, Luke,” she says, returning the smile before plopping down in one of the various armchairs located around Luke’s office. “It helped a lot. How are you doing, Dracula?”

Ben’s responding glare is sharp enough to cut glass.

 _Okay,_ maybe that was a bit too far.

“Don’t antagonize each other,” Luke reprimands at the same time Ben lets out a disgusted noise.

“Sorry,” Rey mutters, resigning herself to the strict business-talk of their meeting.

“I’ve had some time to consider our next course of action,” their master continues, as though his most promising apprentices _aren't_ twelve-year-old twerps. “Ben, you’re in a unique, advantageous position.”

It doesn’t feel quite right to refer to him as some sort of secret weapon or tool to use, but Ben offers Luke a quick nod. “I’ve considered that as well. If I can convince Snoke that he has absolute control over me, then we can dismantle the First Order internally.”

“Snoke?” she asks.

The vampire looks briefly agitated. “There is a… bond between me and my progenitor. It has settled enough to grant me some vague knowledge about him, other than what Hux told me just before his death.”

That could be potentially dangerous, in the wrong hands. “What’s going to stop him from figuring out you’re playing double agent, then?”

"We can prepare spells to deceive him,” Luke explains.

"Wait, do you still have your magic?” She directs the question toward Ben, honestly curious now. There’s definitely something to be said about the expansive knowledge of people who have spent their lives ensconced in the supernatural, because this is a detail she’s entirely unfamiliar with. Granted, this situation itself is fairly peculiar, and it isn’t as though she’d just be told family secrets straight off the bat.

Luke nods. “It’s rare, but not the first case of this happening. When mages get turned, their magic is modified to suit the needs of their species. We’ve seen it happen with weres, as well.”

“Most mages cast spells on their own blood to repel vampires as a precaution,” Ben says.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Vampires don’t usually target hunters,” Luke says, and Rey can just barely detect the note of regret in his voice. “It was unexpected.”

 _Elders_ don’t usually target hunters, she adds mentally. And they’ve already underestimated this _Snoke_ once before. Further deception seems a risky gambit.

She voices the concern, but Ben cuts her off. “It’s our best bet,” he says, and the sternness in his voice brooks no further argument.

If he’s this determined to weaponize himself, then no amount of bickering will be able to sway him. Ben Solo is nothing if not immensely stubborn, regardless of what kind of supernatural being he is.

“Fine,” she says. “What’s my role to be, then?”

“You’re best suited to be his partner,” Luke says, as though it is some kind of honor. “You’ll be monitored a bit more closely due to _recent insubordination_ \- ” and he shoots a look at Ben, who wisely averts his gaze “ - but you’ll have to maintain some distance to support the deceit. The fact that you hardly get along as it is will only benefit you both.”

“Of course,” she says under her breath, but apparently not quietly enough because Ben shoots her another glare. “Copy that, _sir.”_

Luke casts a quick spell on her after she agrees to the assignment. He informs her it’s a clearance spell to let her access some of the older Resistance archives on mages and vampirism, and Rey feels fairly giddy at the display of trust.

“We’re in uncharted territory,” her mentor warns. “So tread carefully, and don’t be stupid about it, this time.” The words are directed at the both of them, and Rey feels sufficiently berated. It’s almost kind of comical, really, how she’s made to feel like a small child for letting her partner get killed and turned into one of their eternal enemies.

She leaves Luke and Ben to their business - who knows what else they want to discuss, but even she’s not so oblivious to disregard the significant looks they keep sharing with each other. Things are going relatively smoothly, she considers as she maneuvers through the rather labyrinthine halls of the stronghold.

Therefore, it’s only natural when the Powers That Be throw a wrench in her plans.

“Rey, a word.”

Rey does not particularly want to have a word with the Resistance’s leader, but part of working with the group is the frequent contact with Skywalkers. Leia has intercepted her naught but a hundred feet away from the entrance of the building, and she steels herself for the upcoming conversation.

“Of course, Leia. What can I do for you?” Rey asks, adopting a brittle smile.

“I didn't get the chance to thank you,” Leia starts, and Rey can't quite hide her flinch in time.

“I really, _really_ don't deserve any gratitude – “

“ _Rey.”_

The certainty of her voice makes her think of Ben's certainty about _dying,_ and the protest freezes in her throat.

“Ben... he'll be okay. We've been watching him for almost a week and it's clear that there's no mind degradation,” Leia says.

 _He's still a fucking vampire,_ she wants to say, but what comes out instead is, “Yeah. Yeah, I was thinking that too.”

It is _so_ much easier to pretend that this situation isn't utter shit when she isn't directly facing Ben's immediate relatives.

“I know it was a difficult decision to make. I can’t imagine being in your position, but I am grateful you chose to do what you did."

Rey stands there, shamefaced, as Leia thanks her for not properly murdering her son. She’d never tell the other woman, but it almost seems easier to be in Ben’s presence than hers.

 

–

 

It isn’t as though the words come as a complete surprise, but they still fill her with inexplicable rage. Maybe it’s the fact that her mentor has tossed Ben straight into the fire with minimal recuperation time, or the fact that the encounter with Leia has knocked her off her equilibrium a bit, but her strides are purposeful and angry as she moves toward her supposed comrade after she overhears him spit venomously, “Can’t believe the General’s gone so soft that she’d allow fucking vamp _scum_ inside the base.”

Weaponizing an allied vampire within a week of his transformation seems cruel, even to her, and it doesn’t sit well in her stomach. Especially not after hearing Leia thank her for not granting Ben true death. Maybe there isn’t really a solid explanation as to why she’s sticking up for him, but it feels _wrong_ to allow his fucking colleagues to shit-talk him in a building owned by his goddamn family.

“Ben is a better agent than you could _ever_ hope to be, asshole,” she snarls, fisting a hand in his shirt angrily once she's close enough to do so.

The hunter isn’t one she recognizes, but he’s human like her, and it doesn’t matter that he’s a good half-foot taller than her or that he probably has a solid forty pounds on her.

“Of course you’d defend your own fuckup,” the hunter says the moment he recognizes exactly _who_ she is, and she registers the pain of her knuckles crushing into his nose before she consciously acknowledges throwing the punch.

It was naive to believe that everyone would accept Ben’s change as easily as her, despite the fact that she believed herself to have more animosity for him than the rest of their group.

He lunges at her, blood splattering across the floor from his broken nose, and she quickly sidesteps the attack. While obviously not as adept at brawls as she is, the man doesn’t appear to be above cheating, and as she dodges he whips a quick hand out and gnarls a hand in her unbound hair.

It forces her to pivot to avoid ripping out a solid chunk of hair - as well as her fucking _scalp_ \- and she’s just about to break his fucking kneecap for the dirty trick with her foot when his entire body freezes.

“Stop it,” a voice mutters into her ear, and she recoils from both its familiarity and sudden proximity.

“Jesus, Ben,” she gasps, mostly because she hadn’t sensed him coming _at all,_ and she only lacks such acute senses when vampires are centuries old, not _days._

The hunter is apparently much less bold when faced with the target of his jeers, and he blanches at the sight of Ben before turning on his heel and quickly vanishing down the long hallway.

“I don’t need you to defend me,” he says when they’re alone, voice dark and - _angry_ , she thinks.

“I wasn’t doing it for you,” she spits, still wired from the fight. Maybe it’s a lie, but hell if she’s going to admit that to him. Her hand throbs painfully, and she abruptly realizes that it’s still clenched into a too-tight fist.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben grits out, and if she weren't so legitimately pissed off then she might've managed a smirk at his obviously-mounting frustration.

Rey feels the anger boil over, and all she wants is to disobey his command. " _No,_ " she says, and her breath is coming fast from her exertion during the tussle. "He deserves so much more than a broken nose - "

"Just fucking _stop_ for a goddamn minute," he snarls, and she can see even through her self-induced rage that something looks wrong about Ben's tensed posture.

It takes far too long for her to understand why.

While the blood sprinkling the linoleum floor is minimal, it’s certainly enough to trigger his baser instincts, and she suddenly feels much too claustrophobic as he crowds her personal space.

Ben is _too goddamn close,_ and his nostrils are flaring dangerously. Rey shivers, her body still taut like a rope pulled tight, and the ferocious glint in his eyes send an unexpected hot jolt straight into the pit of her stomach.

From a clinical viewpoint, she knows the adrenaline pumping through her veins is in response to the direct proximity of an apex predator. Fight or flight, her body is telling her, and Rey barely manages to rein in the urge to fucking bolt.

Rey's jaw aches with the pressure of her clenched teeth, but she's not about to let up. “You know you're infuriating, right?”

Choosing to _fight_ probably isn’t the wisest course of action, but she’s not going to let herself be scared by a fledgling vampire.

Ben huffs a disbelieving laugh, and his breath ghosts a pattern over her skin. He’s standing just over her, too close for anyone to be comfortable, and she suppresses the full-body shiver. “ _I'm_ the infuriating one?”

Her nails bite crescents into the fleshy palms of her hands, and it’s wrong of her to think so but some part of her acknowledges that, in this moment, Ben looks positively _ravenous._

“What, you’re just going to let them treat you like fucking _garbage - ”_

“Rey, I fucking _swear - ”_ he snarls at her, and it shouldn’t surprise her but it _does_ at how easily he slams her back into the closest wall.

She’s reminded of that night, so long ago, when Finn had intercepted her first vampire encounter.

This feels nothing like that.

The rational part of her mind does a quick comparison - she _knows_ Ben, even if he’s undergone a radical transformation. He’s an asshole, but a relatively harmless one -

But it’s being overridden by her hindbrain, keening desperately about the fact that she’s about to die, these are her last moments alive before he assaults her and drains her of precious lifeblood -

They’re locked in the moment, Ben arching his neck down to stare at her through bright, almost savage eyes. Rey’s breath feels trapped in her lungs, held captive by the tense instance, and she can feel her heartbeat in her ears, beating a tense, frantic rhythm.

The air around him is positively humming with energy. It catches her attention - she’s used to the presence of magic, but this is almost tangible without even the slightest hint toward a verbal casting, and Rey wonders if Ben even knows about the power rolling off of him in waves.

It’s a high-strung sort of energy, reaching out to her with electrified tendrils, and she brings a hand up to try and touch the palpable magic.

Ben jerks away from her as if burned, eyes wild, and she instinctively presses herself further against the wall at his sudden reaction.

He looks at her for a split second that feels like an eternity, and then he’s shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans and stalking away.

Even when he’s long out of sight, Rey stares down the hallway, back pressed against the wall.

What the _fuck_ was that?

 

–

 

As it turns out, it’s just another event to stew over and overanalyze for much too long.

Luke's first assignment for Ben is to make contact with his creator and infiltrate as carefully and thoroughly as possible, with bi-weekly updates.

 

-

 

No one in the Resistance sees or hears from him for three months.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but important chapter!
> 
> I'm going to be computerless until early July, so this will probably be my last update before then. Apologies in advance for that, but I'm going to be traveling to Israel and then working at a summer camp for a few weeks, so things will be busy and exciting!

There are bloodstained footprints on the cheap carpet of her apartment, and Rey freezes as soon as she walks over the threshold of her home and sees them.

The air around her is almost too still, as though the intruder is either long gone or remarkably adept at concealing their presence, and she slips past the door before closing it as quietly as possible. She winces when she considers how loudly she'd unlocked the door just a few moments ago, but there is no time for regret as she quickly toes off her shoes.

Rey has long since mastered the art of moving about soundlessly, and the floorplan of her apartment is so well-memorized that she has no issues maneuvering around it without noise. Withdrawing a dagger from the sheath strapped to her thigh, she carefully side-steps the footprints and checks her immediate surroundings.

Her small living room is quickly cleared, as is the kitchen, which leaves only the bathroom and her room. It's probably a bit too optimistic to hope that whoever invaded her home is no longer here, but as Rey moves toward the bathroom and finds it empty, the possibility seems increasingly more likely.

Only one room left to go.

Her bedroom door is shut, which is just  _perfect_ because the door is notorious for squeaking ever so slightly whenever it's opened, but she manages to open it with only a single, brief squeal of protest from the hinges. The room is dark, her window's blinds drawn shut, and she takes it as a good sign that she hasn't been attacked immediately upon entrance. Fortunately, her eyes are well-adjusted to the murkiness of the apartment, and Rey's eyes scour the tiny bedroom before falling on the lump on her bed, covered fully by her blanket.

Someone is lying in her fucking bed.

It takes her a moment to fully comprehend the situation, but _someone is lying in her fucking bed._ The thought passes through her mind that if there are bloodstained footprints on the carpet, then there is a bloodstained body imprint in her goddamn sheets, and she's not sure if the person is even alive or if it's a dead body serving as a warning of sorts, but if they _are_ alive then she is going to fucking _murder_ them for staining her sheets –

She uncovers the body's head and presses her dagger into the hollow of its throat.

 _"Ben?_ ” she says in recognition, too loudly, and her partner jerks awake and into the dagger pressed against his throat. She pulls her weapon away just as he recoils from the silver, hissing loudly from the pain.

“What the fuck, Rey?” he snarls, gingerly touching the burn scoring an angry red line across his throat.

“I should be asking you that!” she responds, voice a bit too high with nerves and adrenaline. “You broke into my apartment and fell asleep in my bed!”

“You weren't home,” he says, as though that justifies his actions.

“You've been missing for _three months,_ ” Rey hisses, and she realizes that her hands are shaking. The dagger falls to the floor with a soft _thud._ “You can't just turn up out of nowhere and track blood all over my apartment!”

Ben sits up and swings his legs over the side of the _– her –_ bed. Rey focuses intently on his words rather than the image displayed in front of her, which is a harder task than it really ought to be.

“Look,” he says irritably, running a hand through his messy hair. “I came here to explain things but you weren't home, and I haven't slept in probably four days, so I caught a quick nap, okay? Your couch was too small and I thought I'd wake up before you returned.”

The rational part of her brain knows that even though vampire bodies no longer function the same way as humans, they do require some of the necessities. Staying conscious during the light hours of the day is immensely draining on them, and they need the time for recuperation just as much as the living do. The less rational part of her mind, though, focuses more intently on how Ben Solo looks with drowsy eyes and rumpled hair. Rey forces the line of thought to halt and makes herself consider his words.

“Why didn't you go straight to Luke? To your _mother?_ ” She grasps at the lifeline – asking about Luke, about work, is a perfect distraction from the strange feeling in her stomach at the sight of Ben Solo in her bed.

“They're not my partner for this assignment,” he says, and she's struck by the fact that he apparently feels more loyalty toward her than his own blood. It's stupid of him, despite the odd fluttering of her heart at the thought, and she tells him so.

“You're an idiot, Your family was worried sick,” she says, and she's hit profoundly by the fact that she was about to add on, _And so was I._ “And you should have gone to them first, especially if you've been here for hours.”

“Luke was well-aware when he assigned me the mission that communication with the Resistance could be impossible during my integration.” His words sound mechanical, emotionless in their delivery, and it makes her think that there's more going on than him showing up at her apartment out of partner loyalty.

She's not completely savvy to the inner workings of the Skywalker family, but things may not be so perfect between them if they've alienated their son this much in such a short time.

“Are you okay? Did they treat you alright?” She feels a bit ashamed for not asking sooner.

Ben barks a laugh at her words, but it sounds – _wrong._ Too dark, tainted with something that had not been there before he'd joined the First Order.

“It was lovely, actually. I've become quite proficient at rescuing puppies and picking flowers."

He looks down at himself in something that she identifies as akin to shame, and Rey doesn't know how she didn't smell it before – he reeks of blood, and she suddenly recalls the footprints staining her carpet.

“You're buying me new sheets, Solo,” she says, mostly to change the course of his thoughts from whatever awful things the First Order has made him do. "These ones are positively ruined."

Ben shrugs, and it's such a minor response to her complaint that it makes her uneasy.

“Get out of bed,” she says. “I've kept a few reserves of blood just in case you turned up somewhere, and you're probably hungry.” It's not exactly a lie – she _has_ kept a selection of blood bags in her fridge, but mostly because she still wakes up in the middle of the day horrified that she's going to stumble across Ben dying again with no way to save him. Maybe now that he's Undead, the dying process would be a bit different, but it's no skin off her teeth to keep her fridge stocked for him in the occurrence of a disaster.

“What took you so long to come home?” he asks as they make their way into the kitchen.

Rey privately thinks that he has no right to ask such a question after breaking into her home and sleeping in her goddamn bed, but she swallows down the complaint. “I've been in the archives,” she says. “Researching the Elders, among other things.”

By _among other things,_ she means that she's been digging through decades' worth of content about vampires, mages, the Skywalkers, and anything else she can get her hands on, but he doesn't need to know that.

What she's managed to uncover has taken almost as long as it has for Ben to show up again, and she's fairly sure that she was never meant to use Luke's spell in such a way. In any case, she's not about to ask Ben if he knows what happened to Anakin Skywalker within ten minutes of finding him after months of radio silence.

She wants to ask him a similar question, but he must be able to tell because he unceremoniously plops down into one of her chairs with a huff. “They've assigned me a new identity,” he starts, picking at the chipped paint on the kitchen table. “I go by Kylo Ren, now.”

Rey freezes for the briefest of moments before smoothly opening her refrigerator and grabbing a bag of blood.

She's heard of Kylo Ren, of course. Almost nobody in the Resistance is ignorant to the tales spreading like wildfire through the supernatural community about a ruthless, powerful vampire that's taken up residence in D'Qar as of late. Kylo Ren has taken down several operatives already, and the whispers speak of the calm efficiency with which he kills, the extensive lengths he will go to in order to silence enemies of the First Order.

Many supernatural allies of the Resistance have been nervous for months because of Kylo Ren, opting to hide away rather than continue providing them with information, and if one vampire could wreak this much havoc then there is likely no limit to what he won't do to fulfill his goals.

She knew whatever the First Order had made Ben do was bad, but she didn't think it was _this_ bad.

He is her partner, though. She's gone along with the double agent business, and she has to believe in him for the sake of the mission. “Is that all – “

“Are you scared of me?” he cuts her off. It had been naive to believe he hadn't seen her tense at his words, and she curses herself for the instinctive reaction.

She wants to answer no. She wants to reassure him, promise him that while he's always been a pain in the ass and someone she doesn't get along with, she's never been _afraid_ of him. But there's something about the acknowledgment of what he is, _who_ he is, if Kylo Ren's reputation is anything to go by, and she finds that she can't force the refusal out of her throat.

“This is what _he_ made me,” Ben says, and he opens his mouth enough for her to see his elongated canines. “What you refused to kill. Does it terrify you like it should, Rey?”

He's out of his chair before she can even blink. She _knows_ it's an intimidation tactic, meant to goad her into a response like he's always goaded her into insults before, only now he's not using words but the supernatural gift given to him by an Elder vampire.

She's not helpless in the presence of vamps, though, and as he lunges at her she whips out a concealed blade and stops it a hair's breadth away from his heart as he freezes in front of her.

“You're still Ben to me,” she says quietly, pulling the blade away from his sternum and putting it down on the counter next to the forgotten bag of blood. “And I've never been afraid of Ben Solo.”

The vampire hums a soft _hm_ in response to her words, but his eyes are fixed on her throat, and she's positive that her racing heartbeat is currently doing her no favors whatsoever. It reminds her that she can say whatever she likes, but her body will never fail to perceive him as a latent threat.

“This is what I am now,” he says, and his voice is softer, now, with some emotion she can't quite decipher. “Even my family has seen fit to throw me to the wolves.”

The words confirm her suspicions regarding the rift between Ben and his family, and Rey swallows hard. His eyes track the movement diligently, and she watches as he brings a hand up and taps a finger against her jugular.

If it were anyone else, it would be an unmistakably intimate gesture, but she knows better than to assume such. It's merely another reminder of his vampirism, and she refuses to let it daunt her.

He doesn't pull away after making his point, though, but instead tilts his head at her as though considering something. The air surrounding them is strained, and the moment lasts long enough that Rey finds herself unsure as to whether he's about to bite her or press a kiss to the curve of her neck.

It's a bizarre thought to have, especially about Ben Solo, but there's no other explanation as to why he hasn't moved yet. Ben is much taller than her, and undoubtedly stronger even without vampire strength to aid him, and the reminder of his underlying power sends a quick shiver down her spine.

She tugs at her lower lip with her teeth, unwilling to move but feeling slightly fazed by the intensity of his attention. Nobody's ever bothered to look at her this way, and it would be a lie to say that she never taunted Ben in the past to force his agitated attentions toward her, but this is _different_ , electrifying.

A soft noise slips past his throat, and she finds herself hoping he _will_ kiss her as another arc of _something_ shoots through her, and she is startled to recognize it as arousal.

The sudden, sharp trill of her phone makes her jump, and Ben takes a quick step back as she fumbles and pulls it out from her pocket.

“Luke,” she greets after a quick look at the caller ID, hoping that he can't hear the loud, fierce pounding of her heart across the line.

“Rey,” he returns. “Are you available to come by?”

Luke hasn't requested her presence in weeks. Ben's disappearance has made things around the base tense, and she's been working almost entirely on her own in a half-conscious effort to avoid the Skywalker family's brooding.

For him to contact her like this, there must be a new development in the First Order investigation.

“We'll be there as soon as possible,” she says, and if she hadn't been paying close attention then she might've missed his quiet gasp at her words.

When she looks up to inform Ben that they're needed at the base, she sees that he's already standing at the threshold of the apartment. He jerks his head briefly, apparently to indicate that he's ready to leave, and she pockets her phone before following him as they make their way outside in tense silence.

The moon is just a tiny sliver in the sky, and Rey turns her head toward it to admire the curve of its crescent as they make their way to the Resistance base. Outside of the confines of her apartment, the tension between them seems to have lifted just a bit, although the silence remains uncomfortable.

This is the second time that Ben's crowded her personal space and acted peculiarly, and Rey doesn't know what to make of it. They've never been physically aggressive toward one another in the past, and she wonders if the recent development is because of his vampirism or some other source of agitation.

He certainly seems more volatile now, more on edge, and while she's used to a sarcastic, snide Ben, now something has definitely changed about him. If nothing else, she's thankful for her weapons and proficiency at using them to deal with vamps.

She silently curses the First Order for the millionth time.

Her only solace is that the brooding, scowling figure striding alongside her is so _Ben_ that it seems impossible to reconcile him with the merciless Kylo Ren. These reminders of his humanity are the best thing she can ask for, she supposes.

“Rey,” Ben hisses suddenly, quietly. There's an urgency in his voice that catches her immediate attention. “Hide. _Now._ ”

The command has her scrambling for cover before she can even truly register _why._ The closest place to hide is behind a tall statue in a nearby plaza, and she bolts toward it without another word. Thankful for the concealment spell that Luke had offered her months ago, Rey mutters the incantation before the Token – a tiny rock from within her pocket – dissolves and shrouds her in a fuzzy darkness.

From her vantage point, she can see someone approaching Ben not half a minute past her mad break for a hiding spot, and she's not an idiot: it's clear that whoever this is has relation to the First Order, or else Ben would not have been so frantic to secret her away.

She's too far away to hear what they're saying, so Rey sets about memorizing the vamp opposite Ben for intel. The vampire talking to Ben is tall, almost as tall as him, and has cropped, blonde hair.

For her to have approached Ben alone means she is not intimidated by the reputation Kylo Ren has cultivated, and indicates that she is trusted enough by the First Order to be tasked with the mission of communicating with him. She is not cowed by him in the slightest, which means that even if they are not equals she is definitely not an expendable grunt.

Their conversation is brief, punctuated by sharp nods and quick words, and it is only because she's scrutinizing them both so carefully that she notices how Ben's posture has shifted. Before, walking with her, he had seemed almost relaxed, but with this blonde vampire his back is stiff as a board, and his head is inclined in a way that seems almost haughty. If she'd walked past him looking like this, Rey honestly may have passed him without any sort of recognition. It's eerily dissimilar to the man she knows.

Ben does not look in her direction once – no, he's much too intelligent to give her away like that – although he does say, just loud enough for his voice to carry across the empty plaza, “Let's go, then, Phasma.”

As Rey watches him walk away with the blonde vampire, she thinks that he's never looked more like the Undead.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not fic-related: Israel was incredible.
> 
> Fic-related: H-heh. Please refer to the 'sorry not sorry' tag?

The walk to the Resistance base passes in a blur as Rey's feet move on autopilot, too caught up in her thoughts about Ben's encounter to pay much attention to her surroundings. It's a stupid move, some part of her brain notifies her, to be so vulnerable when it's dark out and anything could be poised to attack her, but the rest of her mind is too focused on recollecting the tense line of Ben's shoulders and the blonde vampire's – _Phasma's –_ narrowed eyes.

Somehow, she makes it to the base safely, and she isn't entirely surprised to see Leia and Han crowded in Luke's office as she steps inside.

Leia's eyes are wide as she takes in Rey and the fact that she's arrived alone. Rey watches her shoulders slump, and is suddenly struck by how _old_ the General looks.

“Ben was in my apartment when I arrived home,” she starts immediately, mostly to distract herself from the discovery. “On our way here, we were intercepted by a vamp in the First Order and he left with her.”

“But he's alright?”

She's surprised that it's Han who speaks, given that he's mostly taken up a vow of silence in regard to the Undead nature of his only son. “He was... covered in blood,” she says, honestly. His family deserves the truth. “Although he seemed unharmed.”

It's chilling, to realize exactly what her words mean. Establishing double agents is certainly risky business, and Ben has evidently been _very_ convincing. She shifts uncomfortably at the thought of innocent lives lost for the Resistance's charade.

“Has his infiltration been successful?” Luke asks, and she has to pointedly ignore how blunt and tactless his words are. His lack of concern for Ben's well-being does not sit well with her.

“It seems that way,” Rey responds, keeping her mind on the bigger picture. She looks hesitantly toward Luke before steeling herself for the next bit of intel. It's much more difficult to remember that Leia Organa is the leader of the Resistance when she seems so shaken by any news of her son, but this is information that cannot be hidden. “He also informed me that his name within the First Order is Kylo Ren.”

Ben's mother looks stricken by the words. Rey knows that Han and Leia are not typically openly affectionate, especially in their workplace, but she watches as Han brings a comforting hand down onto Leia's shoulder. The moment seems too intimate for her to shatter with more information, and she averts her gaze toward Luke to give them privacy in the face of the unfortunate revelation.

A brief look of something akin to sadness flits across her mentor's face before he affixes an emotionless expression. “Thank you, Rey. It's a good sign that he has remained in contact with you, because it means he hasn't forgotten about his original objective. The most we can do now is continue investigating the First Order until Ben returns.”

“Perhaps now that he has been integrated, Kylo Ren's... behaviors will die down,” Leia says shakily. Rey thinks it sounds more like wishful thinking than a plausible outcome, but she bites her tongue. While she's not exactly a tactful diplomat, she can read the mood well enough to not openly shoot down her boss's ideals.

“It would be the best case scenario,” Luke says, and then he turns to his desk to grab a folder, which he hands to Rey. “There's an abandoned nest near the outskirts of the city that may be worthwhile to investigate.”

“Of course,” she says as she grabs the dossier, although something about this meeting rubs her the wrong way. The presence of Ben's parents indicates that they _do_ care about him, at least in some capacity, but they've done nothing to actively ensure his safety after throwing him freely to the wolves. Even Leia's hesitant comment seems so unlike the fierceness she knows the woman is capable of.

Nevertheless, she takes the file. Luke dismisses her shortly thereafter, presumably to discuss the situation further with his sister, and Rey takes her exit after promising her mentor a thorough report on her encounter with Ben.

The conversation, in addition to Ben's abandonment of her, leaves her in a foul mood, and she doesn't feel like heading back to a bloodstained, empty apartment. She opts to head back into the archives, relishing the tingle of the protective wards verifying her identity as she arrives and is granted entry.

They've become more of a home to her than her apartment lately, anyway, and the archives are so rarely accessed that the ancient desk holding a few interesting texts she's been looking into have gone undisturbed.

Her current project typically requires stealth, something she's not entirely comfortable with given her close relationship with Luke, but uncovering information about his father has been a time-consuming task requiring finesse and a fair bit of rule-breaking. (Some of the tomes surrounding the mystery have been heavily warded even within the confines of the archives, and it has cost Rey a pretty penny to commission spells in order to deactivate them.)

Anakin Skywalker is one of the most perplexing mysteries she's uncovered in the archives. When Rey had first stumbled upon the name _Skywalker_ , she'd expected to read a tale surrounding the legacy that built up the massive hunter organization of the Resistance, but instead she'd uncovered something similar to a biography about Luke and Leia's father.

Anakin was a prodigy in the art of magic, one of the most powerful mages that anyone had ever seen, according to the historical records Rey had found. Alongside a hunter by the name of Obi Wan Kenobi, he had excelled at maintaining balance in the supernatural realm, only to vanish without a trace after his wife died in childbirth.

Original records and interviews with his best friend had reeked of a cover-up, and a few weeks of research revealed to Rey that something violent had happened to cause his disappearance. Her sources were dodgy at best, but she managed to piece together some sort of falling-out between Anakin and Obi Wan.

Her attempts at finding out more about the situation failed spectacularly, but her endeavors in other areas of historical research bore a new sort of fruit – shortly after Anakin's disappearance, one of the greatest threats to humankind arose seemingly out of nowhere. The Empire had left a gaping wound across their country as it strove to eradicate all forces that claimed enemy against vampirekind, and the group was expansive enough that even in more modern times Rey could recall a few occasions where the Resistance had come across former operatives.

Mostly, though, it's surprising to Rey that nobody has connected the dots: it's clear to her that Vader, one of the Empire's top leaders and operatives, was one in the same with Anakin Skywalker. The legends spoke of his immense power and ruthlessness, and Rey supposes that the loss of his wife could have served as the catalyst for his shift onto a side with vampires and a thirst for power. It does not completely account for the circumstances that led him to the Empire, but it seems logical enough.

But maybe Anakin _wasn't_ a vampire, like everyone believed him to be? It strikes her as odd that he would switch sides so easily, especially after spending so much time rebelling against vampires, and the text she's currently reading recollects Luke's last encounters with his father. Anakin's behaviors don't fit neatly into the box she's always associated with vampiric activity, and she puzzles over them.

“I see you've taken advantage of our spellbreakers,” a voice says, the words echoing throughout the hall.

“Luke,” she starts, moving to cover the text she's been poring over. Judging by the look her mentor gives her after glancing at the tome, it's a fruitless effort.

“There are some records that should be left sealed,” he says, and although the words are not explicitly disproving, she can hear it in his tone.

“All history is important,” she disagrees, and because Luke clearly knows exactly what she's been researching she plows on. “I don't understand why none of us have ever heard about Anakin's sacrifice. His actions just before death are exactly the qualities that we fight for, as hunters.”

“It took years to dismantle the Empire,” Luke says softly, and Rey notices that now he refuses to look at her. “Forgiving his sins is different from trying to justify and publicize the loss of life he caused, especially to those who survived his reign.”

“Just because he caused death doesn't mean he is unworthy of redemption,” she says, and she can't help but think about Ben, drenched in the blood of innocents for their cause. At what point do they draw the line, exactly?

“Relations are too tense between us and the vampire population to even consider presenting my father as a martyr.”

“I don't think he was ever turned, though,” Rey says. It's a risky move, to present her half-baked theory to Anakin's own son, but it isn't like there will ever be a truly ideal time to bring it up.

Luke's head jerks up at her words, and his eyes narrow as they meet hers. “Obi Wan left him for dead,” he says, and there is a darker tint to his words, now. It's more information, more pieces to add to the puzzle, and she pays sharp attention. “There is no plausible way he could have survived the damage without becoming a vampire.”

Rey's not a mage herself, but she's heard tall tales about sacrificial blood magic from the moment she was introduced into the supernatural realm. Even if Anakin were mortally wounded, the plausibility of him storing a sort of black magic, failsafe spell to guard against his death is not entirely outrageous.

“He saved your life,” she argues. “A vampire would hardly spare a human under direct command from his sire.”

She realizes how hypocritical she sounds, how they all sound – condemning vampires as ruthless, bloodthirsty killers while simultaneously placing faith in Ben's quest.

“He also tried to kill me after I refused to be turned,” her mentor says firmly. “Several times.”

Luke clearly disagrees with her theory, and maybe it's for the best to drop the subject. Anakin's strange actions toward his son do not serve as utterly compelling evidence, but Rey can't shake the feeling that she's on the right path.

“But he never succeeded, and regardless, it's implausible for him to spend so much time surrounded by vampire culture and then suddenly decide to betray them – ”

“Rey, enough. I've allowed you to enter the archives in hopes that you would research the Elders to gain more insight into how they operate, but spending all your time chasing theories about Anakin is a waste of effort. I've told you what I know.”

It hits her then that Luke must have been the one to offer up his memories in order to maintain a record in the pages she's been reading. For him to have buried such memories so deeply indicates he's hiding something.

Is he ashamed of what his father had done?

Would publicizing Anakin's life to the hunter community truly have a negative fallout, like Luke had said?

“I'm sorry,” she says, not entirely sincerely. Her interest has been further piqued by Luke's response, and there is still so much that she doesn't know about his father that she couldn't possibly stop endeavoring to uncover the truth.

“It's fine. Head home and get some rest,” he says. “You've a mission tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Rey says as she closes the book and stretches. Her spine cracks satisfyingly, and it makes her wonder how long she's been tucked away chasing memories. Her head is swirling with possible ideas as she trails after Luke out of the archives.

 

–

 

The sun's probably half an hour away from rising, and it's the only reason that she's so caught off-guard by the swarm of vamps that quickly surround her.

Most vampires won't risk being out and about this close to sunrise, but she curses out loud when she realizes that the First Order clearly has no qualms about placing its operatives into danger.

None of the group looks newborn, which means they've been dispatched for a sole purpose that's quickly becoming clear. Rey thinks quickly, taking stock of her weapons and any plausible weakness to exploit.

“Cutting it a bit close, don't you think?” she says lightly as she slowly clenches her left hand around the handle of a dagger tucked into the waistband of her jeans. There are seven of them, all poised to attack, and she only has one silver grenade on her person. It may be enough to distract a few of them long enough to land a killing blow or two, but that still leaves five angry vampires prepared to flank her.

Time is her only ally, it seems, and maybe she can draw the fight out long enough for the sun to rise and fry these fuckers.

“You're worth the risk,” one says, flashing her a toothy grin, and the sudden flick of his eyes gives her enough warning to dodge the lunge from a vampire positioned behind her.

Luke would have never have allowed her to become a hunter without teaching her how to fight multiple opponents at once, but she immediately realizes that she's at a disadvantage. Their movements are calculated, lacking the haphazardness that often benefits her when fighting groups, and their well-timed coordination has every fiber of her being shrieking at her to flee. Not a single one has attempted to enthrall her, either, which sends an abrupt, cold shiver down her spine. They know she's immune to it, then, which makes them significantly more dangerous. 

Rey needs to move, fast.

It leaves her vulnerable to dig into her bag to grope around for her only grenade, but she manages to backpedal and put enough distance between the more aggressive vamps to withdraw it.

She's never pulled the pin of a grenade faster in her life.

The shrapnel cuts into her own flesh even as the spray of silver incapacitates one of the vampires immediately, and the others come at her with the undeniable rage of bloodlust.

The fight quickly descends into chaos as the scent of her blood undoubtedly fills the air, and she only manages a few glancing blows on the vampires attacking her before she's forced entirely on the defensive.

“Nasty trick,” a vamp growls from her left, which is the perfect opportunity for Rey to twist and ram her knife as hard as she can into his sternum. With a piercing shriek, he falls, almost dragging her down with him. One of the vampires succeeds in grabbing her hand away from the dagger embedded in his ally, and with a quick movement he has her arms pinned behind her back with a firm grip on her wrist. She snarls wordlessly. It's a weak position to be in, combat-wise, but she grits her teeth at the voluntary dislocation of her shoulder as she wrenches one arm out of his grasp and puts some space between them.

 _Two down,_ she thinks, but there isn't any time to relax with five vampires still circling her. The sun has to be coming up over the horizon by now, and she considers bolting. Maybe she can outrun them long enough for it to rise properly?

Her heart seems fit to bursting out of her chest as one of them takes advantage of her brief moment of hesitation, and she's so focused on the obvious attack that she's blindsided by the more subtle movements of a small, female vampire who uses her sheer strength to shove Rey to her knees.

“Subdue the Kenobi girl, quickly,” she hears one of the vampires bark – it sounds like the same one who had quipped at her before the attack, only now any traces of humor have vanished along with a few of his comrades – and then a sharp hit to the base of her skull has her falling into unconsciousness.

 

–

 

Rey wakes with a pounding headache. Awareness comes back quickly with the painful throbbing of her temples, but it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and evaluate her situation.

Her arms are drawn uncomfortably above her head within a pair of dense metal shackles, and she can't help the hiss of pain when she tries to adjust herself into a more comfortable position. She's been here for awhile, then. There's a row of metal bars slotted in front of her, and her back is pressed against a cool wall.

It's a testament to her throbbing head injury – definitely a concussion, she thinks with a wince – that she doesn't immediately notice the presence of someone in the room with her.

“You'll only injure yourself further by moving.”

Rey jerks her head toward the source of the words, and bites down on her lip, hard, to stifle the resulting whimper when it further jars her head.

It's Ben who is watching her from outside of her cage – and if she wasn't in such pain she'd laugh at how cliché the whole setting seems – but there are certainly worse vampires to have staring at you as you wake up. She'll take the double agent any day.

“Ben,” she says, shooting him a grateful smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “My head hurts like a bitch, can we get out of here?”

Her partner stands shock-still as he looks at her through the bars of her cell. The lack of response is a bit unnerving, so she says again: “I'm sorry I got captured and all, but seriously – in a lot of pain, would really appreciate my _partner_ freeing me and getting me medical assistance.”

“You're not going anywhere,” he says, finally, and even through the ferocious throbbing in her head she can hear how toneless his words are.

She blames the concussion for how long it takes to recognize his posturing: this is not Ben Solo standing awkwardly in her kitchen as they toss insults at one another. This is the stance of Kylo Ren, operative of the First Order. There is no recognition of the Resistance's mission in his dark eyes, only the ever-present hunger that comes hand-in-hand with the infection of vampirism.

The realization hurts more than any headache pulsing between her temples ever could, and Rey forces herself to meet his eyes.

“I should have killed you,” she says lowly, anger simmering in her veins. It overpowers the acute sense of betrayal, but only just, and she hones in on it.

“You should have,” Ben – _no,_ Kylo Ren – murmurs, and his unfettered countenance in the face of her rage only makes it worse. “You'll suffer greatly for your mistake.”

They were all so, _so_ wrong. Ben Solo has been dead from the moment that an Elder vampire drained him of his lifeblood, and in his place is a cruel vampire that should have been staked weeks ago.

“I'm going to bring your head to your parents,” she snarls as the quiet rage dissolves into something more volatile, and the chains above her head jangle as she attempts to lunge at him. Naturally, it's a fruitless effort, but her throat is burning with shame and she can't just _stay still_ and accept this.

“I look forward to seeing you try,” he says calmly before he steps away from the wall.

“Kylo Ren!” she yells, ignoring the resulting throb of her head and how raw her throat feels as she shouts the name. “Don't walk away from me!”

It's clear she is in no position to make demands, and he slips past the door without a single backward glance.

The silence that follows his departure crawls over her skin, and Rey grits her teeth against the tell-tale prickling in her eyes. She feels like an absolute fucking idiot, believing that Ben Solo could have survived somewhere within the transformation into vampirism. It is only when tears threaten to fall that she makes herself calm down through sheer force of will.

He's just like the others, in the end, and she will not cry over him.

Instead, she will kill him for it. This is her mess to clean up, after all.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the most serious out of all the chapters. Rest assured, the next few chapters will return to your normally scheduled program with snark and humor!

“Come,” his sire commands, and Kylo follows along wordlessly. It's nigh impossible to resist a direct demand from Snoke, but he's far beyond the childish notion of disobeying, anyway.

The path they take leads directly to Rey, of course, and he's thoroughly prepared for what's to come. She has been their prisoner for just under a week and should be entirely exhausted by now, and as they enter the room, she jerks awake.

Kylo remains silent as her gaze scrapes over them both. He takes in her form in return, and it's no surprise that her body is taut like a bow, nervous tension easily readable in her frame. Snoke carries with him an immensely oppressive aura, and he observes the way her attention is reluctantly drawn to him. It must grate at her entire being, to kill vampires for years and then be forced to cower simply because of her human instincts.

“I'm not going to tell you anything,” she says, a bit unsteadily, and the chains above her head jangle as she attempts to shift into a more defensive position. It's a useless gesture, considering her suspended arms leave her chest and neck exposed. Either one of them could kill her in under a second.

“We require no information of yours,” Snoke replies, and it's mostly true. Kylo knows more about the Resistance than she ever did, anyway, and they have no need to torture her under the guise of seeking intel. They've actually been rather lenient on her, which is surprising to Kylo given some of the tasks he has been asked to perform under the allegiance of the First Order. This, too, must be part of Snoke's plan, to lure her into a false sense of security.

“Then you should just kill me already.”

“All in due time,” the vampire says, and he reminds Kylo of a cat playing with a bird it has caught. “I must admit that I truly expected more out of the Resistance.”

“Excuse me if we're not all murderous fiends,” she spits. Never let it be said that she handles loss gracefully, Kylo thinks.

“I think you'll find that hunters are quite the 'murderous fiends,' but that is not quite the point I'm making.” Snoke's gloating seems a bit crass to him, although he knows better than to express such a thing. He's aware that bringing Rey utter despair before her death will bring his sire the most satisfaction, and Snoke's confidence at their successful deception should be gratifying, but it leaves Kylo feeling hollow.

“The Resistance's overconfidence was remarkably easy to exploit,” Snoke continues. “And predictable. A double agent, really?”

Kylo notices quickly that, while she's maintaining conversation with Snoke, she refuses to take her eyes off of him. Her eyes are filled with hatred, but it dims after Snoke speaks, and she snarls at him, “You _used_ him?”

She's putting the pieces together, then. From the moment he'd been bitten, he'd been a part of a bigger plot, and he's played his part impeccably.

“Only as your precious Skywalkers used him.”

“ _Don't_ compare Luke and Leia to you,” Rey spits, and Kylo _almost_ feels bad for her. How easily she defends them...

Snoke sneers at her words as though they are distasteful. “The Skywalkers are notorious for squandering potential,” he says, almost wistfully. “As you can tell, I'm much more successful at kindling talent.”

Because he's watching her so carefully, Kylo sees Rey come to some sort of decision. Her eyes harden, and finally she turns her gaze toward Snoke. “Is that what you saw in Ben? The potential for him to become a soulless monster?”

Rey speaks of _Ben_ as though he's dead, and it's more respect than Kylo was honestly expecting of her. It means she understands, now, that Ben Solo died the moment she refused to drive silver through his heart.

The smile that cuts across the Elder's face is vicious. “Your fishing may seem subtle to you, but I assure you it is quite transparent.”

Her shackles rattle angrily at the words. _I'm going to bring your head to your parents,_ she had said to Kylo, but despite her visible anger at Snoke, he can see how her confidence is wavering. It is not the utter defeat he had been hoping for, but it will have to do. The whole of the Resistance has been played thoroughly, and Kylo thinks he will relish watching it crumble to the ground.

“Your death will be the perfect catalyst for Kylo's ascension," his sire says, the first indication of his responsibility since they've entered the room, and Kylo turns his attention toward the older vampire now that he seems to be done toying with her.

 _She is immensely disappointing for a Kenobi,_ Kylo hears in his mind, and he offers the blandest of apologies in return across their telepathic bond.

“You know your options,” the Elder tells him aloud just before he leaves, and Kylo nods at the words. The decision had been made long ago, and he is merely the weapon to complete a task.

“What does that mean?” Rey asks as the door closes, and even now, she refuses to submit entirely to the fruitlessness of her situation. It's almost frustrating, how strong she is, and Kylo turns to her with an impassive mask locked firmly in place.

“I've been given the opportunity to decide exactly how to kill you,” he says, mostly to see her flinch and _finally_ watch the bravado fade.

“You don't have to do this,” Rey says, panic rising in her voice as he dips a hand into his pocket to retrieve a key and unlock her cell.

He has nothing to say in response. Snoke  _had_ offered him a choice in how to deal with the situation, but the truth of it is that Rey cannot be allowed to live. Snoke obviously knows this, knows that she's his only true weakness, and that is exactly why he's been sent to execute her death orders. Kylo doesn't look forward to whatever bid for her life she's going to pull out of thin air, although he's as prepared as he possibly can be for it.

“Kylo,” she says, and he almost quirks his lips. She's smart to refer to him as such, he'll give her that. “You have to remember the Resistance – this isn't _you,_ we can reverse whatever that fucker's done – your _family_ loves you – ”

“My family?” he says lowly, stepping inside. His footfalls echo in the small space, loud even to his own ears. Rey goes silent at the venom in his tone. “My _family_ does not love me.”

She blanches. “That isn't true, and we both know it – ”

“I wonder if you have any idea what I _know,_ Rey.” What he knows leaves an everlasting burn upon his flesh, and has condemned him for far too long.

“Leia loves you more than anything,” she says fiercely, and from behind his emotionless mask he feels a jump of surprise. Rey actually believes what she's saying, Kylo realizes. “And Luke may have made a mistake in sending you here but he only did it so you could get revenge on that fucking _Elder_ and destroy the First Order.”

 _"Leia_ ,” Kylo starts, but has to swallow thickly around the name. It's harder to remain unfeeling when speaking of them, and he takes a moment to recover. “Leia is terrified of me. All of them are.”

“Why would you say that?” There's something in her voice that makes him pause. “You have a _family,_ and they're not scared of you, they love you more than anything – ”

Kylo realizes belatedly that one of his hands is clenched tightly around one of the metal bars of Rey's cage, bending it wildly out of shape, and he forces each individual finger to loosen its tight grip around the cold iron.

Her vehemence makes sense, he supposes. Rey has never had a family. She has absolutely no idea how damaging it can be to have parents be present and still fail you. He's always envied her for being free of the burden of blood, especially given how much his entire family has supported her while turning him away.

“If this is what family does to you, then I'd rather be alone.” And it's an impulsive decision, to turn and shove the dark sleeve of his clothing up to reveal the burn of his mother's spell high on his arm. He can only bear to look at it now that the tattoo of Snoke's counterspell surrounds it, dark ink dispelling the magic that has sapped his strength for the majority of his life.

Predictably, she doesn't understand at all. Kylo bares his teeth in mimicry of a grin at her confused expression as he shoves his sleeve back down. “When I was seven, I accidentally set my mother's office on fire with a spell that most adult mages barely manage to master,” he says, and it feels almost cliché to be explaining so much to her. She's a prisoner, and soon to die, but some part of him acknowledges that she deserves to know, at least. They were partners, once.

Her eyes are locked onto his arm despite the covering of his clothing. Kylo hopes the image of the scar on is ingrained in her mind.

“Both of my parents knew I would be a strong mage, and they took measures to ensure that I would never overstep the boundaries of power. It brings me to my knees if I exert too much energy. The pain is excruciating.”

“ _What?_ ” she says, and it's so quiet that Kylo doesn't think she meant to say it aloud. “How could they – ”

“Do that to their own son?” he asks, and even talking about it fills him with rage. He's never understood it, either, and it's thrilling to see her lost and confused. “It's a pity you'll die here. I would have loved to have you go and ask them the same. Snoke is the only one who does not fear me or my power.”

From the day he'd stepped onto First Order territory, his sire had sealed his mother's magic and praised his potential. Ben Solo had been sent to his uncle at age eight to undergo hunter training, and the isolation from his parents had been calculated. It wasn't a privilege to learn the tactics of their kind at such a young age, but a punishment for the magic that flowed uncontrollably through his being, and he vividly remembers lying in the barracks of a Resistance base, restless and unable to sleep through the tears and endless desire to go home.

But no, this is his only home now. Much of the First Order fears him, yes, but only because they respect the power of Kylo Ren and the authority that follows. Snoke has never handled him like a fragile bomb, prone to exploding at any moment, and he accepts the power the radiates from every fiber of his being in a way that none ever have.

Rey looks like she's about to protest, to say something idiotic like how _she_ isn't afraid of him, but to prove the point before she can even speak, Kylo stalks toward her. He makes quick work of the small distance between them, and on the ground she seems even smaller beneath the shadow of his large frame.

Maybe he's playing with his food, because he has no intention of killing her in this moment, but he pauses above her, eyeing her pallid face as she inhales sharply. His ears are keen enough to hear the quick _thud-thud_ of her heart, and she's such a perfect vision of fearful prey that he has to make a conscious effort to recollect himself and resist the urge to sink his fangs deeply into her neck.

Instead of continuing to cower, however, he watches through forced detachment as she swallows and looks him directly in the eye. “I'll admit that I didn't know about what Leia and Han did, but _I_ know you're better than a vampire grunt doing the bidding of a twisted Elder. Your grandfather wouldn't have wanted this.”

Kylo hums. He'd assumed she knew nothing of Anakin, but it's likely a pointless conversation thread. Still, he cannot resist any opportunity to talk of his grandfather. “They concealed every trace of Anakin's legacy from me.” He'd found out from Snoke just what Vader had done for vampirekind, and it had been another blow against the family he had once cared about.

“They – they hid it from me, too,” she says, and instead of defeat in her eyes Kylo sees a spark of something. He wants to snarl at her the moment he sees it. How can she still cling to hope when she's on the brink of death at his hands? Why can't she just _give up_ and make this easier on him?

 _You were an uninvolved party,_ he wants to say, but even that's a lie. Kylo knows that Rey has no idea about who she really is – another blunder of his parents, really. Would it do to tell her of her own lineage?

“I had to uncover Anakin's story from the Archives, and it doesn't add up. You probably – you think that the best use of your power is to follow in your grandpa's footsteps, right? To become like Vader?”

She's so spot-on that he freezes briefly. To rebuild Anakin's fallen Empire would be the greatest tribute to his legacy, and he hadn't thought himself that transparent.

“But something's wrong,” she plows on. “What did Snoke tell you about how he died?”

What the fuck is she doing? She's in no position to be asking questions. “Luke killed him,” Kylo says, vexed. He's the one with the power here - she's the one chained to a fucking wall -  but her inquiry has thrown him off entirely.

“The Archives proved that he sacrificed himself to _save_ Luke. He was never turned, not after what Obi Wan did to him – ” and Kylo sees it, the way she tenses the moment she says _Obi Wan_ and connects the dots, but then she's continuing “ – and even Vader drew a line somewhere and turned on his allies for the greater good.”

It's a ridiculous claim. Snoke had shown him irrevocable proof of Vader's deeds in the vampire realm. But... everything Ben Solo knows about Anakin Skywalker he's learned from Snoke. His family never told him the truth, which makes sense according to Snoke's story – they would have been ashamed to publicize a Skywalker becoming a vampire and establishing himself as a mortal enemy of hunters – but what Rey is saying doesn't seem impossible. And if she's seen the Archives and uncovered information he has yet to discover...

“The First Order wants to accomplish something with your power,” Rey says, and Kylo wants her shut up almost as much as he wants her to keep talking. “And they'll do anything they can to ensure your compliance. Don't let Snoke reduce you to this. Can't you see he's alienated you from everyone?”

 _Everyone except you,_ Kylo thinks, and something like panic arcs through his body at the thought. Is this another test? Had Snoke predicted this – this temptation of betrayal?

“Kylo, _please._ Think about it. I want to kill you for all that you've done, but I think we're being manipulated into doing just that.”

Somehow, she's managed to turn her own execution into an investigation. Kylo is dizzy with the realization, with her ability to boldly challenge adversity at every turn, and he's suddenly with the vivid realization that he can't do this anymore. He'll fail Snoke's test, he'll leave her alive, but he can't drain the blood from her when her mind is still calculating and trying to save him even though he's too far gone for any kind of salvation.

Does she even know how much blood is on his hands, now, and a few days after declaring she'd kill him, she's trying to _rescue_ him?

It is certainly not beneath Snoke to lie, but even if he had distorted the truth about Anakin's vampirism as a method of recruitment, it's a flimsy thing to base such important decisions off of. It's true that killing humans is distasteful at best, and he's not particularly attached to his sire's plans for the First Order, but he's been assured time and time again that the ambivalence will dissipate the older he grows. Properly manifesting the entirety his magic has been a difficult, consuming task over the past few months, and, looking at Rey, he's struck with a sudden sense of clarity that makes Snoke's ink on his skin burn.

Is he willing to forsake all that the First Order's given him for this waif of a girl and the mere possibility of learning the true history of his grandfather?

He looks up to see Rey staring him down, refusing to avert her gaze, and Kylo cracks.

“There's only one way to do this,” he mutters quietly, crouching down beside where her back is resting against the wall.

“Do what?” she asks, eyes widening at his close proximity.

“Speak quietly,” he hisses. It's unlikely that anyone is nearby, but if he's about to engage in a suicide mission, then precautions are necessary. “I need to bite you, and you'll feign unconsciousness until I can get you out. Nod if you understand.”

Rey looks staggered at the words, as though she honestly hadn't expected him to cave. The darker, hungrier part within him is tempted to squash the hope shining in her eyes, to kill here right here and now, but he tamps down the thought as she nods sharply.

She turns her head, exposing her throat to him, and it's almost too much to bear. How long has he dreamed of a moment like this? He's prepared for days to kill her, to drain her of blood and cement his loyalty to the First Order, but of course she's thrown his plans into chaos.

She's more powerful than she can ever know, and his hands are fucking _shaking_ as he unlocks her shackles. Rey winces as her arms are freed, and Kylo pretends that the painful gesture doesn't affect him at all.

This is an idiotic idea, he tells himself, even as he curves his head over the line of her throat. She's fairly quivering beneath him, and he's struck by her scent, earthy and _Rey_ and beneath it the underlying tang of real fear.

They've been talking for much too long, though, and he's already committed to this bout of stupidity, so Kylo shakes his head minutely to dispel any second thoughts and bites down firmly between the junction of her throat and shoulder.

It tastes like _bliss_. _  
_

The first rush of Rey's blood in his mouth is intoxicating, and he just barely registers her gasp as his teeth sink further into her flesh. Feeding typically lulls prey into a similar sense of euphoria in order to prevent possible escape, and it feels increasingly more intimate as her body relaxes against his while he pulls more of her blood into his entire being. The lifeblood of humans replenishes the deadened cells of vampirekind, bringing about a sense of invigoration unequaled by the other pleasures of life, and Rey's blood spilled across his tongue staggers him.

The seconds blur together, and he loses himself in the sensation of timelessness.

“Kylo,” he hears fuzzily through the ecstasy, and it's disruptive and rude and he deigns to ignore it in favor of the joy coursing through him.

" _Kylo,_ ” the voice says again, and he growls lowly at it. Almost nobody he consorts with is idiotic enough to interrupt him during a meal, and between the mouthfuls of blood he considers the best way to dispose of whoever is attempting to garner his attention.

He pulls away, feeling magic itch across his skin in an instinctual reaction, and it's only when his vision focuses on the human in front of him that he realizes there is no threat.

 _Rey,_ some part of him whispers. _Mine._

Kylo licks his lips to savor whatever blood is left upon his skin, and she flushes attractively at the motion. He is not strong enough to resist: quickly, he dips his head toward her throat again, giving the puncture wound a lick with the flat of his tongue before retreating.

“That – ” she stutters, and Kylo watches her throat bob with narrowed eyes. The bloodflow of her wound slows, and her pulse throbs unsteadily against her throat. “That's enough, right?”

 _No,_ he's tempted to say. It will never be enough, not until he's consumed every bit of her, but then he'd be adhering to Snoke's wishes.

The reminder of his sire does the job.

“Yes,” he says, quietly, and then, to keep himself on-task, “I'll carry you out. Don't open your eyes or move until I tell you to, no matter what you hear.”

Rey nods, and then prostrates herself on the ground. The bite against her tanned skin has him captivated, and it isn't until she says his name again that he comes back to himself enough to remember what he needs to do.

This is the best course of action, he reminds himself as he slips his arms underneath her. She hardly weighs a thing, even pretending to be dead weight, but it's a dangerous gambit, and he needs to be in top form to execute the deception. Slipping up is not an option, regardless of how irresistible she is.

He carries her past the cell bars and out of the room, and the only reason they are not immediately accosted is because his sire allowed for this as a possible outcome.

 _Interesting decision,_ Snoke hums in his mind intrusively, and Kylo refuses to flinch. Snoke cannot read all of his thoughts, and possibly predicted this, anyway, and he cannot waver in his decision. The curve of Rey's body in his arms is almost overwhelming, and the taste of her blood is heavy in his mouth as he navigates through the stronghold.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the downhill slope, here.

_"If there's a single thing you take away from my training,” Luke says, and Rey nods along, wide-eyed and captivated. “It's that you must never allow yourself to be bitten.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“It's a wonder that you seem to be impervious to their thrall, but it's not a flawless defense. When a vampire bites a human, their ability to enthrall prey intensifies radically. Once a victim's blood is in their system, they have absolute power over them, and, because of that, if you've been bitten...”_

_“Then I'm probably dead, anyway,” Rey responds. It makes sense, in a way. It's an easy method of subduing one's prey, to gain control and prevent it from squirming or escaping, but it's also terrifying to consider._

_Are the humans ever aware of their eminent demise, trapped in their own minds as their bodies and actions betray them to the apex predator before them?_

_“It's similar for vampires turning humans into their own,” he continues. “Human blood is absorbed into vampiric cells, serving as fuel, and when those cells are introduced to an entire body flowing with blood, they infect and overtake it. Blood is an intrinsic part of vampirism, and the bond between sire and newborn is strong because of this exchange as well as the thrall.”_

_This is, undoubtedly, the most significant lesson has Luke taught her._

_Rey leaves feeling humbled by her mentor's vast array of knowledge, and her mind runs the mantra on repeat: Do_ not _get bitten._

 

–

 

She doesn't _quite_ pass out as Kylo carries her through the winding halls of the First Order base, but it's a close call. The haze that settled over her mind the moment his teeth had pierced the flesh of her neck has yet to fade, and Rey doesn't have to try very hard to fake unconsciousness in his arms.

As he holds her, she can feel how tense he is through the bunched muscles of his arms looping around her shoulders and knees. They pass a multitude of vampires but his ranking as Kylo Ren must be high enough that nobody actually stops him.

With her eyes closed and her body relaxed, Rey lets her mind drift until Kylo shifts her weight around and she hears a soft click. She realizes belatedly that he's opening a door, and she forces herself to pay attention as she's carefully placed on some kind of soft surface.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says quietly, and despite the lethargy Rey feels, she finds herself complying to the words. The first thing she sees is Kylo above her, curls falling around his face and his eyes still looking a bit too panicked for her tastes. He does seem pleased at her obedience, though, and she wants to shoot him a deprecating smile even though she knows that's impossible.

So _this_ is what Luke had meant when he mentioned _absolute power_. Kylo doesn't even seem to notice what he's done, but Rey feels as though she _must_ obey anything he asks of her. The compulsion is almost itchy across her skin, and it's sobering to realize that her previous musings were correct. Her mind is coherent, albeit a bit muddled, and should she be commanded to do something unsavory, she knows her body would comply without hesitation.

“Rey? How are you feeling?”

If she makes it out of here alive, she'll have to tell Luke that the thrall works not only for direct commands, but also any request spoken by the vampire in power, because without even thinking about it, she's saying, “Everything's a bit blurred. I'm comfortable, but still... scared. Of you.”

It's much more honesty than she'd be willing to express under normal circumstances, but her words are barely her own, right now.

Rey sees the exact moment he realizes it.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he says, almost choking on the word. “You knew this would happen, why didn't you say anything – ”

“You should have known, too,” she replies lightly, and  _damn,_ the haze clouding her thoughts feels _good_ when she's obeying him. It's a heady sensation, and a dangerous one. “And there was no other choice unless you killed me.”

It's interesting to watch how he flinches at the words. How long ago had he been steeling himself to end her life, only to be so horrified with the idea now?

Kylo's eyes snap to hers, and Rey realizes that she's been laughing aloud at her own thoughts.

“Okay,” he mutters, more to himself than her. “No commands, that's – that's fine.”

She watches him, noting that she's lying on what looks like a makeshift bed. He hasn't told her to move, or anything, so she stays there idly as he regains his composure.

“I'm – sorry. It was the only thing I could think to do to rescue you, and in my haste I did not consider these ramifications,” Kylo says haltingly.

“I trusted you to make the right decision,” she says, which is obnoxiously true. Rey had wanted to kill him for betraying her, but her conversation with Snoke – even _thinking_ his name sends a jolt of disgust through her – had made her realize that they'd played perfectly into his hands. Snoke _wanted_ her to hate Kylo, wanted that hatred to create a dynamic between them that was so vitriolic that he'd have no choice but to end her life, and in doing so would seal his commitment to the First Order and his sire.

She must be speaking aloud unintentionally, because Kylo's face grows darker the more her thoughts progress. His fists are clenched tightly, and Rey imagines that his nails would draw blood, if they could.

“We will never allow him to manipulate us like that again,” he swears, and she makes a small noise of agreement.

Rey wishes he would touch her again, because she had felt safe and inexplicably warm in his arms, and now she can feel a cold chill settling in her bones. The blood loss, maybe?

“Will you... come here?” she asks, quietly. Her limbs are sprawled haphazardly over the bed, but she thinks that if he agreed verbally then she could probably muster up enough energy to move them and help him settle down beside her.

But Kylo only looks stricken by her words, and she watches as one of his hands shoots toward his mouth and he responds only by darting quickly out of the room.

When it becomes clear that he has no intention of returning any time soon, Rey sighs resignedly and lets sleep overtake her exhausted frame.

 

–

 

“Rey,” a voice says, and it prods at her tired mind uncomfortably. With an annoyed grunt, she turns away from the noise, intent on ignoring it and returning to sleep.

It's a persistent voice, though, and another, more firmer calling of her name has her eyes opening to pin a glare on whoever is speaking.

_Oh._

“Do you feel okay?” Kylo asks, looking a bit more hesitant at their close proximity now that she's fully roused. Rey pointedly averts her gaze from his lips, which are parted just enough for her to see fangs peeking out.

A few words come to mind: malnourished, exhausted. She's pleased when neither of those thoughts actually pass her lips. Back in full control, then. “As good as I'll ever be in this place.”

“That's good.” He pulls away from the bed – it must be his, she thinks, eyeballing the dark bruises under his eyes that make him look convincingly human. “We don't have much time, so I'll explain the situation fast.”

“What's going on?” She didn't think time was such a crucial factor, but she forces herself up and into a sitting position.

“There's a lull in my bond with Snoke, which means he's likely unconscious for the time being. I think I can sneak you out of here before he's up again.”

“What about you?” She says the words almost too quickly, but Kylo pushes on.

“Don't worry about that."

“I'm not leaving without you,” Rey says. She can recognize his tells far too easily to miss that he's hiding something. “And what if he isn't sleeping? It could be another trap. He has to have known that you didn't kill me, so shouldn't he be suspicious of you?”

“Actually,” Kylo responds with a wince. “He thinks I turned you.”

“ _What?”_

The explanation is hasty. “It's why I bit you – a full meal makes our cells more potent to ease the transformation of a fledgling, and with you being unconscious it looked like you were just about to begin changing.”

Everything clicks into place. “So that's what he meant when he said you had options,” she muses.

“Yeah. We've been given a grace period to account for your transformation, and that's why we need to get you out of here quickly.”

“You're coming with me.” It's one thing she refuses to budge on. She'd placed her full trust in him the moment he had bitten her, and she's not about to leave him behind, now. They're in this together.

It hits Rey, then, that she hasn't thought a single time about how horrible it is to have to work with him. Just a few months ago, she was resistant to the idea, throwing insults and jabs to get him out of her hair, but now they're seamlessly working in tandem to undermine the First Order.

Their situation _must_ be dire, if they're beyond screwing around for the sake of irritating one another.

“We should have a contingency plan.”

Kylo looks at her as though she's insane, as though his idea is flawless and the fact that she's contesting it is utterly ridiculous. It brings about an itch of annoyance, and maybe their previous dynamic isn't _completely_ forgotten...

“Look, the Elder's obviously overconfident. He's been one step ahead of us this whole time, and while I think that us getting out of here without conflict is definitely the best idea, we _could_ be intercepted.”

Rey knows she's right, and she also knows that Kylo's bothered by it.

His lips twist into a grimace as hers fall into a self-satisfied grin. “I cannot directly disobey my own sire, which includes attempting to kill him. But _you_ – ”

“I have no restrictions,” she interrupts. “I can end his life for you.”

“You can't, either,” Kylo says shortly. “He'll overpower you in an instant, thrall or not.”

“Then where are you going with this?” Her words are clipped, irritated. Is there even a point if this is a suicide mission?

“Your blood has made me stronger,” he says, though to Rey it looks as though the words are painful for him to speak aloud. “I'm not positive there _is_ a way to kill an Elder, but it's possible that I can craft a spell that will briefly interrupt the bond we have.”

“Will that work?”

“I'm not sure.” The confession is hesitant, and Rey rubs a hand over her face as she considers their possible courses of action.

“Do you think you could find me a weapon? I'll be much more useful if I can fight, and that increases the odds that we could actually hurt him.”

“You _will_ lose if you fight him,” Kylo says confidently, and she tries not to let it upset her _too_ much.

“ _We_ stand a better chance if both of us are prepared for combat,” she says. “Go find me some silver, and then do what you need to for the spell.”

Taken aback by the her command, Kylo actually listens. He mutters, “I'll be back soon. Prepare yourself,” before leaving, and once she's alone, Rey exhales loudly.

Truth be told, she's not feeling well enough to possibly engage one of the most powerful vamps she's ever met in battle, but it's not like they have a choice.

Underneath the emotional exhaustion is the fact that she's been fairly starved for at _least_ a few days, and Rey still isn't entirely sure how long she's been held prisoner. They're not ideal circumstances to fight under, and Kylo has to be aware of how heavily the odds are stacked against them.

Regardless, she should prepare for what's to come, and the first order of business is to strip off her tattered, dirty clothing. It's disconcerting how similar to a bedroom this room looks, but Rey noses around long enough to find a closet with what looks like Kylo's clothing hung inside.

It comes as no surprise that his wardrobe is made up of entirely black clothing, but she manages to find a soft long-sleeved shirt that she _won't_ swim in. She has to shove the sleeves up to her elbows to make it a workable piece of attire, but it'll do. It takes a little more digging around to uncover a pair of sweats with an adjustable drawstring – there is absolutely _no_ way she would fit into any of his pants – and she eagerly tugs them on over her hips and rolls the bottoms up enough to reveal her feet.

It's fairly hilarious to imagine Kylo in them, though. D'Qar's most terrifying vampire, wearing sweatpants. A giggle bubbles in her throat at the thought.

Maybe it's a superficial comfort, but she feels leagues better once she's in clean clothing. It certainly has nothing to do with the lingering scent of the vampire who owns the clothing.

He doesn't take long to return, true to his word, and in his hands is something wrapped in cloth along with a few miscellaneous items that are likely mage Tokens.

“This was the best I could find,” he says, offering her the fabric.

Rey takes it and slowly unwraps it, pleased to see one of her more balanced, well-made daggers hidden within the folds of cloth. It's not much, but already she feels better with the comforting weight of a silver weapon in her hands, and she offers a genuine, “Thank you.”

“I can cast a spell that will temporarily stifle your exhaustion,” Kylo says, fiddling idly with the Tokens in his hands. “But it won't last long and when you come down it'll be... rough.”

Rey knows the spell. It's one that Luke had actually used on her before, during one of their longer hunts, and it leaves a person feeling more wrung out than they were when they first needed the incantation, but desperate times call for desperate measures...

“Yeah,” she says. “It's a good idea. I'll deal with the fallout later.” _If we even make it out of here,_ she thinks, but manages to refrain from saying out loud.

Wasting no time, Kylo speaks the proper words, and the magic quickly settles over Rey.

It's like a shot of adrenaline, coursing through her veins and making her body forget about all of her aches and pains. She feels almost giddy with the energy, and a grin unfurls across her features.

“I'm ready,” she says through the smile, moving to pick up the dagger Kylo had retrieved for her, and he nods in agreement.

The halls are silent as they slip out of Kylo's quarters, and Rey wonders what time it is. Sometime during the day, she figures, but that will only create problems when they finally make it out and she has to travel with Kylo. Perhaps he's done that on purpose?

Rey frowns, opening her mouth to question him, but Kylo turns and shoots her a glare.

 _Fine,_ she'll keep quiet.

The hallways look identical to her, but her partner has no problem navigating the winding pathways. It's certainly a more sophisticated location than the one they'd raided on their hunt for Hux, although the walls and floors are such a stark white that it feels almost clinical.

Kylo's spell has her feeling hyper-alert, and her ears don't register another sound outside of their quiet footsteps as they move. Everyone in the compound must be unconscious or otherwise preoccupied, and maybe they'll actually make it out of here without a hitch, after all.

“I must admit that this is rather disappointing.”

Kylo stiffens immediately at the words, but holds his ground. “Snoke.”

Rey knew things were going _too_ well. She quickly withdraws her blade and turns on her heel to face the Elder.

"I had hoped the chance of this happening was too minimal to come to fruition," the vampire says, and Rey can hear the low growl building in Kylo's throat.

“What, that we would see through your manipulation?” The words come out confidently, and she forces herself to build on that confidence to prepare for the inevitable fight.

The Elder scoffs. “All you've done is set back my goals. Nothing that can't be undone.”

She can feel the anger building deep in her breast, but it's offset by the urgent pressing of something into her hand. He's passing her his Tokens, and once her fingers wrap around the trinkets a lance of fear shoots through her. Why is he giving them to her? She doesn't know the incantations to summon the spells –

“Kylo,” Snoke drawls, and it's chilling how nonchalant he sounds about this all. “Kill her.”

Rey's stomach drops.

 _I cannot directly disobey my own sire,_ Kylo's words echo in her mind, just as he turns to face her with dull, emotionless eyes.

“Fuck,” she bites out, instinctively dodging his lunge as she shoves the Tokens in her pocket. Rey doesn't want to hurt him, but she knows that's what Snoke's expecting. Her mind races – maybe she can subdue him without causing _too_ much damage?

She doesn't think quickly enough. Kylo catches her by the shoulder, grip hard enough to bruise, and dragging her dagger up to catch his hand as it comes up to clamp around her throat is the only thing Rey can think of.

He hisses as the silver slices into his flesh, recoiling just long enough for Rey to squirm her way out of his grasp.

Shooting a quick glance at Snoke to evaluate how much danger she's in, it's clear that he has no intention of joining the fray. He doesn't want to soil his hands with a pathetic human girl, would rather have his offspring do the dirty work, and it sends her into a fury.

Kylo is forced onto the defensive as she charges him. It's a messy tackle, but does the job, and they both slam onto the ground, hard, as her momentum topples them over.

“The spell,” she grits out, bearing down on him, and this close, she can see a spark in his dead eyes at her words.

It vanishes almost as quickly as it appears, though, and before she knows it, Kylo flips them so that she's the one pressed against the cold ground. He's quick to disarm her, smashing the flat of his hand down over her forearm.

The scream wrenched from her throat is raw as she hears the loud _crack_ of her bones shattering under the pressure, and her dagger slips out of her now-useless fingers.

There's no time to stop and evaluate the injury, though, and she grits her teeth violently against the pain.

It's almost a blessing that a shard of bone manages to penetrate her skin, because the sharp scent of blood fills the air and she's hit with a sudden wave of nausea as the pain penetrates the feeling of invulnerability that Kylo's spell had given her.

Kylo and Snoke are not unaffected by the scent of her blood as it flows freely down the length of her arm, and this is the best chance they have.

“Now!” she yells, half-expecting a complete lack of response from Kylo, but she watches from beneath him as his head snaps up and he hoarsely shouts a few unintelligible words.

Magic resonates between them as the incantation activates the spell, and Rey puts all of her faith into Kylo's theory.

It doesn't work.

She can tell instantly by the loud, disgusting laugh that echoes around the hall, and her head whips around to confirm that Snoke is clearly unaffected by Kylo's magic.

“Did you really think parlor tricks would work on me?” Everything about him is ugly. His voice, his schemes, his _existence,_ and Rey watches Kylo looks down at her, eyes wide with an expression of fear that looks shocking on his features, and she knows this is it.

They're going to die here.

_No._

The only way Kylo will be free of Snoke's commands is if the Elder dies, and they only stand a chance if they strike at him together.

“Kylo,” the vampire says, again, and Rey shoves Kylo aside and launches to her feet, hell-bent on interrupting Snoke before he can order his progeny to kill her again.

Her arm aches something fierce, but there's no _time_ to consider something like pain. It maybe isn't the best tactic to slam a hand over his mouth and _force_ him to halt his words, but she has to do _something,_ and if sacrificing her only available hand as Snoke bites harshly down into her flesh, then at least she's tried her best.

Her hand recoils from the bite, a sizeable chunk now missing, and if she thought Snoke was bloodthirsty at the _scent_ of her blood, then he's positively rabid at its taste.

“Little girl,” he says, eyes wild, and Rey takes a step back before she can consciously register her body's reaction. _This_ is an apex predator, and the sudden, absolute certainty of her death hits her hard enough to still her completely. “I am going to enjoy tearing you apart.”

He stalks forward, each step deliberate, and she's frozen like a terrified deer as he slides a hand around her throat. Snoke's grip around her neck is like a vice, forcing her breath to stutter in her lungs, and black spots rapidly cloud her vision.

It's not the worst way to go, all things considered. They put in a fair effort.

The spots become more prevalent the longer Rey goes without air, but at least they... tried...

The impact of her body as it hits the floor hurts like a _bitch,_ but she's too grateful that _air_ is flooding her lungs to consider how every fiber of her being acutely hurts. She gasps for it greedily, interrupted only by a hacking fit of coughs.

When the desperate need for oxygen subsides, she takes a look around. Vampire ash coats her, and above her, Kylo stands, motionless, her dagger still clutched in one hand. He must have stabbed Snoke from behind during his preoccupation with murdering Rey, and holy _shit,_ they did it. Kylo's flesh burns around the silver hilt of the weapon, loud in the now-silent hall, and Rey stares at him in awe.

“Snoke's dead,” Kylo says as the dagger falls to the ground loudly, and even through the agony of her wounds making themselves known she can hear the incredulity in his voice. He believes it about as much as she does. “We killed him.”

“It's over?” she manages to choke out. The nausea is hitting her full-force now, and she isn't sure that she can even stand on her own.

“Yeah,” he affirms, moving to scoop her up off the floor. “Come on, I've got you.”

He carries her out of the First Order stronghold just as dusk settles over the land, and Rey's reminded of when she had done the same for him, so long ago.

 


	9. Chapter 9

When Rey finally rouses into consciousness, her eyes burn against the bright rays of sunshine streaming into the room she's residing in. It's one of the sterile medical rooms hidden away within the Resistance's stronghold, which means she's in relatively safe hands.

Once her mind registers her location, her primed, tensed muscles relax at the lack of any present threat. There's no real indication of how long she's been resting in this room, but her ragged, disgusting garments have been replaced with a soft t-shirt and a clean pair of boxers. They're her own clothes, Rey realizes, and her mind connects the dots: someone must've ransacked her place to grab her a change of clothes while she was asleep.

It's a small gesture of kindness, but a meaningful one.

Rey closes her eyes and revels in the silence for a moment. There had been days, locked away in Snoke's cell, where she never imagined seeing the sunlight again, or having the privilege of being surrounded by beings other than the cruel Undead.

Now that she truly seems to be out of danger, though, her body's complaints make themselves known. Her arm is a constant, dull throb alongside the sharper, more acute pain radiating throughout her hand. Both are bandaged heavily, swathed in stark-white bandages. Rey's thankful for the fact that her most concerning wounds are currently covered, if only because she can prolong actually discovering how bad her injuries are. Willful ignorance, and all that.

Swallowing is a painful action, too, she realizes after a moment. Her throat is probably bruised something awful, and it aches in a way that makes her hesitant to try speaking just yet. It's probably better to give her vocal cords some much-needed rest.

On top of her injuries, her entire body feels weary down to the bones, and a deep-set exhaustion settles over her mind even though she can't have been awake for more than a few minutes. Her sluggish thoughts dredge up a memory of Kylo casting a rejuvenation spell on her, and because the status of her body is a fairly typical response to the overwhelming magic, Rey doesn't even fight to keep her eyes open as she gives in to the temptation of sleep's murkiness.

 

* * *

 

Nausea surges through her entire being as Rey wakes with an uncomfortable lurch. There isn't much time to register anything but a plastic trash can being shoved in her face before she's emptying her stomach into it, head pounding a nasty rythm against the base of her skull.

Puking is a sufficient distraction from the nightmare of Snoke pressing his fingers down and _into_ her bleeding flesh, and even though she feels like _death_ because of it, the action  occupies her mind and body fully.

"Fuck," she mutters once she's done heaving up stomach acid. She hasn't had anything to eat in who knows how long, and her stomach cramps uncomfortably at the reminder.

"You okay?" a voice asks, and Rey flinches before raising her eyes to meet Luke's concerned gaze. Damn, her combat skills have diminished horribly during her captivity. She'd been entirely distracted.

"Yeah," she says with a grimace, wiping a forearm across her mouth. Between the god-awful taste of stomach bile in her mouth and the way her throat constricted uncomfortably around the formation of the word, she is very much _not_ okay, but trying to explain that would require more effort than she's willing to output at the moment.

Luke looks at her like he isn't entirely convinced by her response, with good reason. She's  pretty far from any semblance of acceptable well-being, but at least he respects her enough not to bring it into question verbally.

"You've been asleep for about three days. You're still recovering, but we managed to use a few healing spells that should speed up the process. Magic can't heal everything, though, and you'll still need to rest for a few days."

Rey nods at the words - she had figured as much. "My arm?" she asks, voice dragging over the words roughly.

"The bone splintered upon... impact, but it should heal fine." Rey doesn't miss the way he had paused, and wonders how much he knows. Did Kylo stick around to tell his family anything at all, or did he deliver her to the Resistance before vanishing? "Your hand's another story, though. I did what I could, but some of the finer bones and tendons were unsalvageable. I'm not sure you'll ever be able to hold a weapon again."

She closes her eyes for a moment to gather her bearings. Adrenaline had gotten her through the initial pain, but hearing about what happened to her body through Luke's calm tone makes her nauseous. The words hit hard, but it's a small price to pay for Kylo's life and her own freedom. She offers a short nod, resisting the urge to try and clench her bandaged hand, knowing it will be a futile (and painful) effort.

"Rey," Luke says softly. "There's something else."

She's about to ask if it's related to Kylo when Luke shakes his head minutely.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you." There's a resigned edge to his words that indicate he's about to tell her exactly what he's lied about, so Rey stays silent as she watches him carefully. "I had my suspicions, but they were only confirmed when you asked me about your resistance to vampire thrall."

"This is about _me?_ " she asks, surprised enough to vocalize her bewilderment despite the way it tugs painfully on her vocal chords. She'd been prepared to hear something about Kylo, or the Skywalker family, or even Snoke, but not about  _herself._

"I don't know the whole story," he admits, and she doesn't miss the way he refuses to meet her eyes as he speaks. "But there's only one other person I've ever known to have such a talent. Obi Wan was always resistant to a vampire's thrall - he told me once that it was a genetic predisposition cultivated through generations of hunters."

Some subconscious part of her mind recognizes that Luke's still speaking, but her thoughts catch on _Obi Wan_ and _genetic predisposition._

"You think I'm related to Obi Wan?" Rey asks incredulously.

Luke sighs. "He vanished soon after Anakin was presumed to be dead, but... there were rumors that he had started a family. I didn't put much credence into the thought until Finn brought you here."

She can't help but stare at him. The only life Rey ever knew growing up involved frequent jumps through foster and group homes, drifting perpetually until she turned 18 and received enough scholarships for being a foster kid to attend a nearby college. And now Luke is telling her that not only does she have a family, but it's one closely tied to the Skywalkers and _hunting?_

It's fairly unbelievable.

"It has to be a coincidence." Rey doesn't _care_ about the faint taste of blood that lingers in her throat after she speaks, because her words are more important than caring about something as inconsequential as pain.

"Leia and I looked into it once I started training you," he says. "We managed to track down the records of Obi Wan's wife and daughter."

Against her will, the timeline snaps perfectly in place: Obi Wan must've settled down with his wife and raised a kid before his confrontation with Anakin, which would've been - what, 20 years to raise a family?

And his daughter would have had plenty of time to mature on her own while Luke and Leia did the same...

"Obi Wan was my grandfather," Rey says, and he nods resignedly in confirmation.

Which means that Luke _knew_ about her family, and withheld the knowledge even as he trained her to be a killing machine. The pain that lances through her heart isn't physical, but it hurts just the same. Is this how Kylo felt, knowing his family withheld secrets as they suppressed his powers in fear of him?

"He tried to keep his daughter out of the life that corrupted his best friend, and she was killed a few years after you were born."

She spares the thought to mourn her mother, likely lost because of supernatural predators, but her mind races. What had happened to _Obi Wan_? Rey can't wrap her mind around the idea that he would've left her to the system of his own free will. She voices the question, ignoring the quiver in her voice.

"Obi Wan died to save me from my father the first time I tried to confront him," Luke says, and he finally meets her gaze. "I learned that his blood resistance seemed to interact uniquely with Anakin's magic, and he was the only person who could rein in my father's powers when they became otherwise uncontrollable. I've given it some thought, and I think maybe you were right: Anakin may not have been turned. It's possible he was using his best friend as a contingency plan, hoping that Obi Wan would take him out if he felt it was necessary."

She fills in the blanks: Obi Wan was either killed before he could stop his best friend, or Anakin was too strong for him to even attempt it. His blood may not have been enough...

"I know this is a lot to take in, so I'll leave you be. I hope one day you'll forgive me," Luke says before he leaves the room silently.

Rey swallows, and it tastes like betrayal.

 

* * *

 

Her only other visitors during the few days she's confined to bedrest are Han and Leia, who inquire about her well-being in what seems like a fairly artificial way. They don't bring up Kylo at all, and Rey doesn't ask. 

She spends most of her time alone thinking. There isn't much else to do, with her muscles so weak and undernourished, anyway, and Luke has given her an awful lot to think on.

It's incredibly hard to reconcile the way she grew up with the interference of Luke Skywalker, who she didn't even _meet_ until she'd already overcome all the bullshit that life threw at her. If he hadn't gone after Anakin, would Obi Wan still be alive? Would he have learned of his daughter's death, and come to protect his granddaughter from supernatural creatures and societal complications alike? Without anything to distract her but her own thoughts, it's getting more and more difficult to refrain from resenting Luke and Leia and anyone else who might know about her parentage.

Kylo finally comes to see her just after one of the mages who focus primarily on healing magic informs her that she'll be cleared to leave the following day. He slips quietly into the room just as she's dozing off, but she's recovered enough to sense his presence, and opens her eyes to make out his shrouded form in the darkness. 

"Hey," she says, offering him a smile. The fact that he's seeking her out at all is a positive sign, and Kylo really _is_ the most appealing Skywalker to interact with, at the moment. Rey from a few months ago would be  _shocked_  if she could see her now.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a truck." She huffs a laugh, but he doesn't appear to be fond of the joke. "Better than a few days ago, though."

He's maintaining a safe distance away from her, and it sends a pang of sadness shooting through Rey. She'd thought they were a bit... closer, after all that they'd gone through.

"Do you feel okay? You haven't come to visit, so I wondered if killing your maker had an adverse effect on you - "

“I don’t think they’ll let me live,” Kylo says conversationally, and her instincts are to respond with a quick, _They won't kill you!_

But now Rey sees the fuller picture of how the Skywalker family treats those close to him, and she can't force the words out of her throat in any manner that will be relatively convincing.

"You're too much of a liability to them," she says. Her words are potent, and she can almost feel the Kenobi blood running through her veins as she speaks. Leia branded her own son out of fear for his potential, and Luke withheld vital information about her family on top of leading her only surviving relative to his death. They aren't perfect, not at all, and the hurt is fresh enough that Rey understands Kylo's decision. "After all you've done for the First Order."

"I'm going to leave," he affirms. "All we've gone through... it's made me realize that I - I'm not quite ready to die." Kylo's voice wavers on the words, and he seems most insecure than she's ever seen him before. "Anyway, I just wanted to say goodbye."

"You're leaving without me?" The words come out sounding hurt.

"Rey," Kylo says, voice almost a hiss. "I could kill you at any moment on accident, and sometimes I _want_ to kill you. There's a reason my parents restricted my power and likely want me dead."

"You bit me, Kylo," she responds, hoping her words sound more convincing than incredulous. "And didn't kill me. You barely even _hurt_ me, and managed to leave me alone regardless of what your instincts were probably telling you to do. And you did that all under duress." Kylo's eyes land directly on her bandaged arm, and she lets out an annoyed noise. "Whatever you did under Snoke's control doesn't count. When it was _you_ , you never hurt me."

"I think your blood stopped me from killing you," he admits after awhile. "When I broke your arm - it was me, don't look at me that way - it... snapped me out of it. Snoke didn't control me because I could feel your pain, and that was more potent than obeying him was. I've never heard of anything like that happening before."

Rey considers what Luke had told her about the way Kenobis and Skywalkers interacted in the past. It's possible that something about her blood has her inexplicably tied her to Kylo, and allows for her to hold power over him in a way that no other human ever could.

"I'm the only one who understands you," she says quietly, but the words pass through him like smoke in the air. Kylo looks as though he's already condemned himself to solitude.

Swallowing down the disappointment, Rey sighs and drops it. "Will you help me get home, at least?"

He nods, and thankfully moves to help her slip out of the medical cot. She's not due to be released until the morning, but damned if she's not going to take advantage of the assistance to finally get out of the bed and back to her comforting apartment.

They make their way outside slowly, thanks to Rey's underused muscles, and it's the dead of night. Kylo seems immediately wary, as though any moment they'll be attacked by an agent from the remnants of the First Order, and for all Rey knows, someone might. She realizes that she has no idea about what happened after they'd killed Snoke, but walking on public streets at night probably isn't the best time to inquire about the situation.

She's incredibly thankful that her apartment is close to the Resistance stronghold, because her legs are shaky and her head is light with dizziness as she forces herself to move closer and closer to _home._

It's not until they're standing in front of her flimsy apartment door that Rey is suddenly hit with the realization that she doesn't have her keys on her - she hasn't had any personal effects since she was captured, and she freezes uncomfortably.

She fumbles with the words, distracted by the reminder of her captivity. "I, um - "

"I have your spare keys," Kylo says. He withdraws a keyring from a pocket, and she stares at it blankly. Was he the one to fetch a handful of clothes for her? It's not like Kylo has never been in her apartment before, but there's something almost... intimate about the idea of him retrieving her things to wear while she was incapacitated.

"Thanks," she mutters, forcing her mind away from that train of thought. She pushes inside, and is unsurprised to see that her apartment is as messy as it was when she'd last left it. It's comforting, seeing how little has changed. Almost as though she can step right back into the life she had cultivated before Kylo had been turned and Snoke had even been a concern...

"I should go," Kylo says, snapping her out of her musings. "I'm glad to see that you're alright."

"Don't," she manages to say, because suddenly she's flooded with the fearful notion that Kylo's about to _leave._ Not for the night, but for good. He wants to vanish and leave behind no trace to make it impossible for his family to track him, which means he's about to leave her behind, too. But Kylo knows what she's gone through, and it seems unthinkable to let him go when there's so much left unsaid between them.

"Rey." He sounds disapproving. "This is the best course of action."

"That's it? You're just going to run away?" she asks, and it's a bit of a challenge to inject the cocky tone she hasn't used with him in far too long, but he still stiffens at her words.

"I'm not _running away_ ," he snaps, eyes flashing angrily. "I'm leaving alone to _protect_ you."

"And who's going to protect _you,_ then?" She's tempted to say that the last time he had protected her, he'd been breaking her out of a prison cell and fighting to the death with his sire alongside her, but she manages to refrain. Logic isn't going to penetrate his thick skull, apparently, and she'll have to revise her strategy.

They way he says, "Nobody," hits her hard. It's too honest, too _true,_ and Rey knows that she'll never be able to let him go.

"I'll just follow you if you don't let me come with." It's not quite a threat - more of a promise - but his head still snaps up at the words.

"Why do you _always_ do dumb shit like this - " Kylo snarls, and at his overly-emotional response, her rebuttal rises instantly to the tip of her tongue.

_Because I care about you, obviously._

That's a _bit_ too revealing, though, although it doesn't come as too much of a surprise because Rey's considered the thought before. She hasn't done much but think, lately, and she'd come to the conclusion a few days ago that their intense staring sessions probably had to do with the sexual tension swirling around them.

"I'm not the idiot, here," she says a bit lightly, before stepping toward him until their chests are almost touching. He fairly towers over her, neck craned to stare incredulously down at her brazen movement.

"What - " Kylo starts, eyes narrowed, but nothing will get done if she leaves things up to him, and so Rey steps up onto the balls of her feet and silences his words by kissing him firmly.

Kylo parts his lips in surprise, and she takes advantage of it, pressing her tongue against the slick opening of his mouth until access is granted. Her tongue slides over his elongated canines, and Kylo gives into the kiss for the briefest of moments before letting out a strangled noise and shoving at her shoulders.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?"

The shove jostles her injured arm uncomfortably, and she hisses in pain before huffing out, "Kissing you, obviously."

" _Obviously_ ," he says disbelievingly, and then, "are you completely _insane_?"

Rey threads her fingers through his hair and tugs _hard_ , forcing him to lock eyes with her. "Was I insane when I let you bite me?" She tilts her head to the side, exposing the scarring on her neck from his fangs. It's meant to be a rhetorical question, but she can see his lips forming the distinctive _yes_ -

It may not be a very sophisticated tactic, but surging forward to claim his lips stunned him into silence once, and blessedly, it works a second time.

He doesn't open his mouth, this time, but Rey can work with that, too. She licks the seam of his lips before pressing her own against his with bruising vigor. There's a thick force brushing against her skin, and it takes a moment to identify it as Kylo's magic. She feels it give as he _finally_ concedes and relaxes into the kiss, and she smirks against his lips at the victory.

Rey's the first to pull away - the worst part of being human is decidedly this pesky need-to-breathe thing - as her chest heaves for air.

"A little slow on the uptake, Kylo?" she asks, breaths coming fast, and is immensely satisfied by the glare he shoots her. His hair is a disheveled, curled mess, and his lips glisten with their swapped spit.

"This is a monumentally bad idea," he growls, and the sulking tone of his voice is _identical_ to the one she's used to from Ben Solo. His words belie the way he grabs her good arm and steers them toward the bedroom, though, so she can't find it in her to be _too_ upset.

There's something to be said about the unnatural speed of vampires, she notes, because Rey finds herself splayed out atop on her bed with an overeager vampire tugging her boxers down her thighs before she can even manage to blink.

"I can smell you," Kylo says lowly, and she flushes as she realizes _exactly_ what he means. "It's obscene."

"You don't seem to be complaining," she says through the blush as he helps her to kick off the boxers and her underwear.

 _"Rey,_ " he says, but maybe her flippant manner is finally catching on, because his features shift into a grin that looks positively feral as he moves down the mattress to settle his head just by her pelvis. "How could anyone refuse something so irresistible?"

He's clearly mastered the art of torture, judging by the way he licks a path over the jut of her hipbones and the dip of her stomach, and the predatory way he goes about raising goosebumps along her skin and pressing his lips closer and closer to the thatch of curls at the apex of her thighs is utterly _unfair._

"Uh," she manages to gasp as his fangs drag against the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. "Be - careful with those things, okay?"

It's not as though she's unopposed to the idea of them playing with the notion in the future - if she's so hopeful to imagine such a thing - but her femoral artery is currently _not_ feeling the biting vibes.

She hears him laugh, and wants to respond in kind but only manages a ragged gasp as he flattens his tongue and licks a thick stripe up her clit.

Caught up in Snoke's schemes, Rey hasn't exactly had the time to focus on self-pleasure, so the slide of his tongue against her sensitive sex is almost overwhelming.

She's probably a soaking wet mess, but he doesn't give her a moment to recover as he licks and sucks at her clit. Time melts away as her entire world hones in on the contact of his tongue against her sex.

A shudder wracks her frame as Kylo shifts and slips a finger inside of her, pumping it in and out slowly while swirling his tongue around her sensitive bundle of nerves. Each brush of his knuckle inside of her sends a wave of pleasure tingling throughout her body, and she makes no effort to keep herself quiet as she keens and moans under his attentions.

Pleasure mounts as he slips another finger into her slick sex, and the slide of his digits against her inner walls is nearly overwhelming.

"Kylo," she gasps, digging her fingernails deeply into the flesh of his still-clothed shoulders. She barely has enough common sense to be thankful that her throat is fully healed as she lets out an embarrassingly loud gasp, and then her orgasm crashes over her in waves. Her spine arches and her eyes screw tightly shut from the pleasure, and everything feels blissfully _wonderful._

Rey takes a moment to just revel in the flood of satisfaction warming her being before she opens her eyes enough to shoot him a pointed look at his own problem.

"This is enough," he says, and even through the pleasure she realizes that his labored breaths must be a remnant from his human past - his lungs don't require oxygen, anymore, but he's not so unaffected that his body has forgotten to gasp for air in the throes of gratification. "I don't - trust myself inside of you."

Rey _does,_ in all honesty, but if it's something he's uncomfortable with then she won't press the issue. "Let me help, at least," she murmurs, brushing a hand against the bulge of his pants.

He mutters an, "I'm fine," but she isn't about to leave him hanging, not after the magnificent orgasm she's just received, and he almost sullenly unbuttons his pants before shoving them down. His prick is engorged and red from neglect, and Rey spits into her hand before wrapping her fingers firmly around it.

"Tell me what feels good," she coos, still feeling the rush from her own orgasm, and he grunts an affirmative as she slides her hand up and down his length.

" _Nn,_ " he groans. "A little more pressure - _there_ \- "

Rey aims to please, and it doesn't take Kylo long to come. He spills over her hand before collapsing beside her on the bed. She idly wipes her hand across her shirt - it'll probably end up coming off, anyway, and her mind is purring with satisfied exhaustion so she is definitely _not_ about to get up and clean it off before sidling up to Kylo's prone form.

It only strikes her once she comes down from the endorphin high that Kylo had been painstakingly mindful of her injuries - despite jostling it when they had first kissed, he'd been attentive about staying gentle around her, and it's such a stark contrast to the ruthless reputation he'd cultivated within the First Order that she barely manages to stifle a giggle at the thought.

He's absolutely capable of being a murderous creature, but Rey herself isn't absolved of sin if vampires really are capable of being this... _human._ There's no other way to put it. It's not that she regrets eliminating the threats of countless freshly-turned vampires - those newborns are brutal and relentless - but it has certainly made her reconsider those that survive long enough to regain their senses.

Her musings drift off as her mind tugs toward sleep, and she presses the line of her body against her vampire's.

Kylo murmurs that he isn't quite tired enough to fall asleep alongside her, but he does stay with her, and that's more than enough.

 

* * *

 

The sun has barely set below the horizon when he wakes her. A line of bags sit packed by the door, all necessary supplies removed and ready to go. They dress quickly and efficiently, mindful of the time.

And Kylo and Rey run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for how long this took to get out! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter of Throne of Bones. I have been consistently overwhelmed by the massive support I've gotten from you guys, and I'm thankful for each and every one of you. ♥


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